


Slay Girl, Slay

by moodring



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Baristas, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Café, Camboy Lee Jaehwan, Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Master/Slave, Mostly M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, The Het is slow burn, Triggers, Vampire Slayer(s), Violence, Wonshik is a hoe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-12-04 08:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11551425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodring/pseuds/moodring
Summary: Taekwoon rents out the top half of his apartment to a slayer. As a vampire, that wasn’t one of his brightest ideas. Side stories: Wonshik falls for an aegyo prince with elf ears and Sanghyuk learns true freedom by taking it all away from Hakyeon.





	1. His Pet

**A/N:** Hello, everyone! I thought I should explain what the hell this is...It's the product of me being sick for the past three months. I spent a lot of time staring at this story, wondering where it had come from. To be honest, I always wanted to write something like this, because I love, LOVE, love vampires. I still sit down and watch Buffy and Angel reruns (WHY DID YOU TAKE IT DOWN NETFLIX?) I've read all the Black Dagger Brotherhood books. Name a vampire movie, I've seen it. I find myself gravitating towards Vampire!AUs when I'm looking for fanfics to read. I really wanted to give this a shot. I tried looking for a beta reader, but uhm, I failed. I would still like a beta reader for this story, really. An extra pair of eyes would be a tremendous help.   
  
**Additional notes:** This is a BLET (Half BL, half HET). I don't know if it exists, but now it does. There's a m/f pairing and m/m pairings. For years, I've strictly written het, but I'm going to start easing into m/m again. I used to write it all the time, a majority of it anime pairings, and now I'm rusty.  
  
**Extra, ~~unnecessary~~ notes: ** The OFC will remain nameless. That's how I do. This story is trigger-sensitive. These aren't friendly vampires. They don't _need_ consent. They use their abilities to get whatever they desire. There's blood, there's torture, there's not so nice thoughts (gdi, Sanghyuk).  If you cannot hang, please do not read this work.  
  
Also...HAPPY LЯ! COMEBACK...ANNOUNCEMENT... DAY!  
  
**Updated 10/14/17 - Looked over by my favorite bish,[bunneh_teef_70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunneh_teef_70/profile). **

* * *

  
Slay Girl, Slay

* * *

  
_‘You got a cold, cold heart._  
_Do you feel at all?_ ’ – Ruelle  
  
Chapter One: _His Pet_

Cinnamon scones. Taekwoon could smell them – so acutely, that it was like being struck in the face. He sighed shakily and curled himself further into his pillows in an attempt to ignore it, because it wasn’t just the scones, but it was also the cream slathered between the warm halves of fresh pastry, melting through until it was completely saturated. Blueberry preserve, so thick and sweet in his nostrils, he could practically taste it.   
  
He growled low through his teeth and raked his nails down his mattress, finding the indentations from the last few times he carved his fingers into the surface. The clock on his bedside table read five o’clock in the evening, which was early morning for Taekwoon. Why he’d felt compelled to rent out the top apartment, fuck if he knew. It was sheer idiocy now that he thought about it.  
  
Taekwoon threw the sheets off his body and grabbed his hand-phone. There was only one contact. Sanghyuk answered a moment later, physically unable to refuse the call. Before he could formally greet him, Taekwoon snapped, “Here. Now.”  
  
There was the slightest hint of hesitation, as Sanghyuk tried to fight against the thrall tugging at his better judgment. “Now? But I’m in the middle of work.”  
  
“Now means _now_.”  
  
“But…” The phone went silent for a brief moment. It was then that Sanghyuk’s voice fell into one of soft complacency, as though the light of his subconscious had suddenly been switched off. “I’ll be right there.”  
  
It wasn’t as easy to control humans over the phone as it was in person. With repetition it worked, but the vampire hated the chore of having to repeat himself. Sanghyuk was over two hundred years of age and still very much human – having been sustained by Taekwoon’s blood throughout time – never sick, never aging. This wasn’t so much a gift as it was a punishment. You don’t humiliate Taekwoon. He was lucky enough to be alive.     
  
Alive to serve Taekwoon for the rest of eternity.  
  
It was twenty minutes later, not nearly soon enough, that Sanghyuk was toeing his shoes off. He slipped his feet into a pair of guest slippers, and stepped further inside the dimmed hallway.  
  
Taekwoon was seated on the couch, one leg folded over the other with his dark eyes kept shut in blissful silence, waiting. His foot had a comfortable bounce going that slowed the moment he’d smelled Sanghyuk, grateful that the scent was something other than café hell. He flashed in front of the boy’s peripheral, so, _so_ fucking impatient. He placed a bony hand against Sanghyuk’s chest and shoved him down hard against a surface – the kitchen table, apparently. The vampire was bent at the waist, watching with an eerie calm, as Sanghyuk scrambled for purchase – blunt nails scratching at polished wood.  
  
With the vampire’s blood coursing throughout his veins, he could withstand the abuse, although it wasn’t necessary nor was it fucking appreciated.  
  
Taekwoon hoped that he would only have to ask once. “Who _is_ she?”  
  
Genuine confusion flitted across the boy’s face, skeptical to ask at first, “What? Who is who?”  
  
“It’s when you start acting dumb, that I really want to apply violence to our conversations. You would heal right up, too. You would still live...” Taekwoon sucked in a small breath that he did not need, caught up in the exquisite thought. “…without your arms, your legs, or even those pretty eyes of yours. I’d find new ways of making you useful.” A long, unsettling stare had the human swallowing thickly, unable to find words. “You know that I would.”  
  
Sanghyuk was well aware, since he was never allowed to forget that his life was spared by an oath of servitude. He was the vampire’s bitch, nothing more than a pet. There were so many evenings set aside where Taekwoon personally demonstrated how true that statement was – violating Sanghyuk’s will to consent with a simple casting of thrall. He’d lived for so long beside his demon, never knowing which decisions had been manufactured or were made of his own volition.     
  
It was terrifying.  
  
He’d finally come to a conclusion about Taekwoon’s inquiry. It must’ve been in regards to the new tenant. The girl had seemed nice enough and wasn’t in the least bit put off by the cemetery lots scattered around the property. The top apartment definitely needed work and lots of it, but she’d offered to renovate it herself. A late Victorian home had always been ideal, she’d said.    
  
“She’s a student, attending the local college here. Not sure what she majored in, didn’t ask. She already signed the lease and paid two months’ rent in advance.” And there wasn’t anything else worth mentioning beyond those facts. She was a normal girl, just barely surviving on what little she had, balancing both a part time job and school.    
  
“You need to terminate the lease and send her on her way, before I rip her throat out.” Taekwoon’s eyes were black with promise, obsidian – impossibly dark. How to even begin telling the vampire how fucking illegal that would be? He felt the cold brush of Taekwoon’s fingers along his jugular vein, tracing over it in languid stokes. The next string of words was above a whisper, even lighter than the usual soft lilt of the vampire’s voice, “She makes me feel so hungry. Not just for food.”  
  
Oh, holy fuck. It was going to be one of _those_ nights. Sanghyuk felt his body respond at an embarrassingly fast rate. He was already half hard inside his work slacks, thighs spread with Taekwoon’s large frame settled between them. The human was larger and taller, but not strong like the immortal. He wasn’t raw energy like Taekwoon was – he wasn’t feral, untamed beauty personified ( _vamponified?_ ). He wasn’t a killer.  
   
_No_ , he only liked getting fucked and used up by one.  
  
His head was swimming, skin flushed prettily as he reached for Taekwoon’s wide shoulders. If he had any real strength, he’d gather the vampire up in his arms, but he remained as still as stone, not budging. Sanghyuk wanted to feel fangs as long as a tiger’s buried deep inside his neck. The feeding always _sounded_ grizzly, like a waterfall of blood should be streaming down his throat, but Taekwoon never allowed a single drop to go to waste.  
  
It was proper feeding etiquette or some bullshit. Whatever nonsense Taekwoon had said all those centuries ago when he’d taken his first bite of Sanghyuk.     
  
There was an aromatic spice coming off the human’s body, his arousal evident in more than one way. It made Taekwoon’s nose tingle, as he inhaled the perfume into his lungs – predatory instinct flaring up like a fever. He turned Sanghyuk’s face to the side, deciding to stop dawdling to reveal the smooth expanse of skin. Sharp nails went to the collar of his shirt, tearing the fabric open with ease, and sending buttons flying beneath the pressure.

Sanghyuk was caught up in staring, making the corners of Taekwoon’s mouth twitch. Even after all this time, he was still so enamored by the vampire’s existence.  
  
It was the visuals.    
  
Taekwoon was as starkly tragic as a dead dream, only to be revived as a living nightmare. He was a fantasy once running so wild and vibrant, until he was forsaken to bleed black, a monster who cursed everything that he touched, condemned. There was nothing right or natural about him. The vampire brushed his raven dark hair away from his eyes out of habit, feeling the silky strands rest against the tops of his bone white cheeks.  
  
“You’ll bear it like you always do, isn’t that right. You do it so, so well for me.” He didn’t even have to use thrall to feed from Sanghyuk. The boy was an utter masochist.   
  
He leaned down with a firm press of his weight, nosing along the side of Sanghyuk’s neck, taking in the new sheen of sweat coating his skin. The scent wasn’t of fresh scones or blueberries, but it was masculine, woodsy, and _familiar_. It was a pity that he was rarely afraid anymore. Taekwoon could only lament the missing fragrance that he’d cherished above all others, adrenaline created from fear made the blood more delicious. He parted his mouth at the curve of Sanghyuk’s throat and shoulder, the points of his fangs dragging over his sensitive skin like needles across silk.  
  
A soft groan erupted from the human, cheeks colored with shame, “Ah, p-please…”  
  
Taekwoon obliged him at once, because tonight was not about degrading Sanghyuk. It wasn’t about humiliating him or making him beg for it. No, it was about sparing the girl upstairs, his soon to be ex-tenant. Last thing he needed was the police or her family at his door.    
  
The feel of elongated fangs sinking into Sanghyuk’s flesh had him arching with a startled gasp, the pain always leaving him stunned at first, before he would calm down. Strong thighs closed tightly around Taekwoon’s waist in an attempt to pull him closer. It was allowed tonight, since the vampire found himself in a disgusting state of longing – over a human girl? Yes, perhaps it was the longing to eat scones from out of the palm of her lifeless hand, whilst dipping the pieces into the gruesome hole he’d make in her neck, using her blood as a condiment.   
  
Sanghyuk tipped his ear to his shoulder, offering Taekwoon more room – more flesh, shuddering upon hearing the messy sounds of his blood leaving him in audible gulps, skin bruised by the pressure of each hungry mouthful. He liked going numb from the searing pain, helplessly trapped between the surface of the table and Taekwoon’s solid chest. Once the vampire had taken his fill ( _for the time being, since the bastard was insatiable_ ), he tenderly licked at the puncture wounds, soothing them with the tip of his tongue so that Sanghyuk wouldn’t bleed out.  
  
He used to pray that the vampire would lose control and take too much.     
  
Taekwoon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing crimson across his cheek, pupils blown wide with elation. It didn’t take long for him to recover from his stupor, as he shoved Sanghyuk’s legs from their viselike grip, and moved to the fly on the front of his slacks. An impatient tug revealed more of his human’s soft, smooth skin. The marks and bruises from the last time were already healed up. With Taekwoon’s blood running through his system, that wasn’t any real surprise. It just presented opportunities.      
  
The crisp, white button up shirt that Sanghyuk showed up wearing was soon in tatters, the fabric having been pulled around his shoulders. He couldn’t raise his arms and perhaps that had been the whole point.  
  
Taekwoon had to remind himself that again, this was not about disgracing the poor boy. Although, he rather enjoyed the torture, always reminding Sanghyuk of that time in 1820, where he’d embarrassed the vampire in front of King George IV during his coronation. It was the reason why Sanghyuk was still alive. And sure, time had passed, centuries gone, anyone who was there – long since dead, but Taekwoon was unwilling to let it go.  
  
He would _never_ let it go.      
  
Taekwoon was hungry all over again, dragging his tongue over his bloodstained canines. It was like he hadn’t fed at all, appetite renewed, and Sanghyuk was beginning to look like a full course meal for the second time tonight. The next spot Taekwoon chose to take from would be significantly more painful. It was down far enough so that Sanghyuk would have the perfect view of his blood flooding the vampire’s mouth. The speeding of Sanghyuk’s heartbeat called out sweetly, begging to be chased after, and captured. How the immortal longed for the day where he could finally put it to rest.  
  
Taekwoon thumbed over the boy’s breastbone, before dipping his head lower, sinking his fangs through deep layers of muscle. The small gasps and sobs beneath him only spurred him on, as he brought a cold hand between Sanghyuk’s thighs and grasped him firmly. He felt as the human started to thrash from the sensory overload. The blood was so hot, trapped under teeth so sharp, each strong drag like scorching heat directly from a flame, while the long fingers pumping tightly around him felt like they were made of ice.  
  
A growl rumbled low in Taekwoon’s chest, as he stretched his jaw for another taste – _!  
_

* * *

The girl shot upright from her pillows, chest heaving for fresh intakes of air. Her throat felt constricted, as the panic crept inside her body, insidious and greedy in its taking of her control. She scrambled to get to her feet and met the floor, her legs giving out when she’d tried to move too quickly to the bathroom. Her anxiety medication was in the cabinet behind the mirror. What was left of her rational mind tried to tell her that she’d been through this before and that she would be fine, but every time felt new and more frightening.  
  
She’d eventually made it to the bottle and turned on the faucet, bringing water to her mouth by the handful, and swallowed the pill down. It had felt so real, the biting. She took careful stock of herself, gently touching the side of her neck where she’d been bitten in her dream, but there was nothing there – there never was anything to be found, but just to be sure, she searched her chest. It was clear of any unusual blemishes, namely the gruesome bite marks.  
  
Why did this keep happening to her? The dreams had started when she was sixteen, but on her eighteenth birthday things had started to intensify.  
  
She pulled her hair away from her sweat covered skin and tied it up into a bun at the top of her head. Maybe it was time to see another doctor, someone who would at least humor her, before throwing medication in her direction. Then again, who would honestly take her seriously? The sleepwalking was one thing, but the dreams were another case. She couldn’t discuss vampires, because they weren’t real.  
  
The clock in the kitchen told her that it was six in the evening, giving her two hours before she had to be at work. She turned the kettle on and took a seat at her table to study. A nap in the middle of reading over her assignment hadn’t been her intention, but actual sleep was evading her. She could hardly concentrate, finding herself reading the same sentence over and over again.  
  
Once the water had come to a boil, she ripped open three packets of _Maxim: Mocha Gold Mild_ , and mixed the coffee granulates around until they dissolved in the piping hot water. Then she thought of Mr. Cha, boss number one, and about how disappointed he would be if he learned her coffee preferences were of the artificially powdered sort.  
  
He’d give her that narrowed expression that made her skin want to crawl ( _right the fuck off_ ), the same one he used whenever she was late, which was often. How she managed to keep her job was beyond her. There was little finesse in what she did, finding herself struggling to learn the basics, like how to use the coffee drip machine, or pouring tea from a ( _heavy as fuck_ ) stone kettle as elegantly as Jaehwan.   
  
Boss number two, Mr. Lee ( _but most people called him Kong_ ), ran the morning shifts. He was kinder towards her, more understanding about her perpetual bouts of clumsiness. But then she switched over to working nights and now Mr. Cha ( _who was most likely suffering from a bad case of OCD_ ), ruled over her underpaid existence. Mr. Lee was probably the only reason why she hadn’t been fired yet. She could see that impossibly wide grin on his face, easing Mr. Cha into a forgiving mood, _‘Give her one more chance.’_  
  
She was a freshman in college with no particular major in mind. Sister Clara suggested community college to her on her eighteenth birthday, which ironically, had also been the same day as her high school graduation. A single nun had sat in the chair that was typically reserved for the graduate’s parents, but it was just as well, because Sister Clara was like her mother in so many ways.  
  
It wasn’t customary for the church to keep raising a child, especially into adulthood, but she had never wanted to leave the sanctuary. It was like that for as long as she could remember. The word guardian used to make her cringe, especially as she was being placed beneath the microscope of complete strangers, where they would weigh her worth within such few interactions, taking in her age, and appearance, determining whether or not she was good enough to become part of their family – fuck, it made her want to weep.  
  
She sipped her coffee and headed into her bedroom, beginning to appreciate her new home. The smell was of dust and mold, like it had never been properly scrubbed before. A perk was that it was fully furnished, although everything appeared to be decades old, not that she minded much. It kind of reminded her of the sanctuary. A draft swept through one of the broken windows, causing the floorboards to creak without the weight of steps. Most of the wallpaper was peeling off due to the worn adhesive from hot, muggy days.  
  
The apartment was broken and decrepit. It was absolutely perfect.    
  
She changed into her BeanCha uniform, tying the light brown apron into a bow behind her back. The logo was of a bear sipping coffee with the store name scribbled in fancy cursive around the cup it was holding. She slipped into a pair of tan shorts beneath the hem of her skirt, hiking them further up her thighs so that they wouldn’t show. The dress itself was darker than the apron. She picked her headband up from the dresser, not wanting to get scolded for _‘forgetting’_ it at home again. It was a set of puffy bear ears that suited Jaehwan a hell of a lot more than it did her.  
  
And yes, she did hate her life.  
  
She approached her dresser to open the gift Sister Clara had given her on graduation day. She’d grown out of her old necklace, the silver having tarnished over time. Her present was a cross necklace she’d kept nestled safely inside its blue velvet jewelry box. It was new and immaculate, possibly the finest item she’d ever owned. It made her smile proudly, perhaps even a little bit delicately.  
  
She would finally wear it today.

* * *

Wonshik tilted his head, peering inside the café for the sixth night in a row. The familiar blonde was working behind the counter again, pulling finger hearts from the lapels of his uniform vest. The immortal winced, continuing to watch the downright nauseating display as though he were transfixed, and unable to escape. It all had to be an act, no more than just a gimmick to harness better tipping, or clientele. It wasn’t like the barista needed anymore fans, the lot of them female, one of them very much dead, and male.    
  
There was even a Daum café page dedicated to _‘BeanCha’s Babe-rista, Jaehwannie’_ , not that Wonshik had taken the liberty of achieving level two-star status. Gods, he was disturbed. How could he allow himself to be this fucking easy? Sure, yeah, the human male was cute in a, _‘Ops, I accidentally crushed your trachea, whilst feasting upon your life source’_ sort of way, but this was going too far…  
  
Wonshik was known to be reckless whenever it pertained to something that he wanted, unable to ignore the persistent desire to claim, whether it be a possession or a person – the two were practically the same thing in his opinion. Being dead for so long, he’d learned how to bend the will of humanity to his every whim. Of course, the thrall helped, too. He understood that obsession and impulse were both dangerous components to be playing with, but Lee Jaehwan had practically written the recipe out himself, before shoving it inside the vampire’s mouth to chew on.  
  
Wonshik merely wanted to take him up on his silent offer, to become obsessed, and to act on impulse. He wanted to open the café doors, get right in the barista’s face, and order a…coffee? Or maybe he should look the human dead in the eye and take over for a little bit?  
  
No, _no…_  
  
Using thrall for sexual pursuits was different from using thrall for survival purposes. It wasn’t as though he were a saint. There’d been no fucking way. He’d already abused his powers tens upon thousands of times over again. He’d taken plenty of unwilling participants to his bedroom, cranked up their adrenaline levels a couple notches just to add spice to their blood. He’d even persuaded humans into killing themselves and each other, families and lovers alike, leaving him to marvel at the outcome of his own compulsion. It was art.  
  
Truthfully, it had taken Wonshik a long time to realize that he was not a god, but something _else_ , something ugly. The realization had done little to hinder him from chasing after angels, ruining every small slice of Heaven wherever he saw it, and Lee Jaehwan was one of them. He was on the side of the light, standing on the eve of getting swallowed up by darkness.  
  
First things first.                 
  
Wonshik crossed the busy street, his long legs carrying him to the front of the coffee shop. He decided to enjoy a cup of coffee made by Jaehwan’s tired hands. Vampires could digest liquids and foods, but it wasn’t required for them to function. The idea of having to put up a façade made the desire within him wane. Would he really go as far as to pretend? He’d already exerted too much effort by his standards.  
  
“Buing, buing!”  
  
Wonshik’s eyes snapped up, unblinkingly. Jaehwan’s lower lip formed into a pout, both of his hands up, fingers curved into bunny eared air quotations, making a small crowd of human females laugh. Five. Five graves he’d have to dig all by his lonesome. Worth it?         
  
He was at the counter within an instant, where the spectacle continued without any foreseeable end. _Fuck_ , it made him feel violent. The gloomy tension that radiated off of his body was like a sudden overcast, thickening the air in the room, and pulling the attention towards his presence. All eyes were taking him in, from his wild red hair to his heavy, crystal blue gaze _\- usually stopping there, unable to look away_. Even if Wonshik considered himself to be an unsightly being, his outward appearance was an all-kill.  
  
The sky blue suit he wore was one of his favorites, because it was modern, yet sensible. He was hoping Jaehwan would like it just as much as he did, but the barista remained oddly quiet.     
  
‘Come on, beautiful, do your song and dance,’ Wonshik thought smugly, waiting for Jaehwan to greet him in the same flirtatious manner he typically did all his customers. He’d settle for a bright, beaming smile or perhaps one of those cute winks? That would do just fine. Maybe he’d even manage to get one of those stupid fucking finger hearts from hell?  
  
Jaehwan chewed on his plush bottom lip, shenanigans and mischief set aside. He straightened his back in an attempt to come off as all business, “What can I get for you today, sir?”  
  
Wonshik’s expression fell.  
  
_Sir…_  
  
Was he fucking serious? The vampire leaned forward against the counter with a hand braced on its surface. _Careful, careful_ … He slowly shook his head, “I don’t think I heard you correctly. Try it again.”  
  
Jaehwan’s eyes widened upon hearing the customer’s deep voice. It was both nasally and charming, befitting the body that had come with it. Speaking of which, the customer’s appearance was still giving him a head rush. It was freezing outside and the guy wasn’t wearing anything beneath his suit jacket, having flashed a generous amount of tanned skin and defined pectorals. Jaehwan didn’t particularly mind it, what with him being born shameless, and the customer was clearly gorgeous. “I’m not sure what you mean…”  
  
Wonshik barked out a sudden laugh, but there was no real amusement behind it. “You should treat all of your patrons the same, unless you were hoping to make me jealous?”  
  
The barista averted his eyes, trying to give himself some space without having the actual freedom to leave. His customer wanted to be treated the same way, meaning, “You want me to treat you like I do the women?” Usually men cringed at Jaehwan’s aegyo, so he learned to hold back, becoming quite skilled at determining who it was safe for, and who it probably wasn’t.  
  
Wonshik arched a red brow at him, curious and expectant.  
  
He accepted the challenge. Easy enough. “Ah, my precious customer, did you come all this way to see me? Did you wait long?” Jaehwan pouted, feigning genuine concern. The pitch of his voice went higher, more suggestive. “Would you like me to make you something special? Something warm? Tell me what you want…”  
  
_Mm, fuck. That was much better._    
  
_‘A pint of your blood,’_ Wonshik mused to himself, eyes emboldened with devious intent. Jaehwan’s complexion was healthy and appealing to him. Even the veins traveling up along his slender neck were pulsing so sweetly, calling for him to sink his fangs in. Beneath that shirt collar was probably the prettiest set of clavicles. It made him want to break the barista for simply existing.  
  
He stared openly, finding the truth spilling out on its own accord, “I want your heart.”  
  
Jaehwan grew still, breath hitching audibly while he and his customer watched one another, both unwilling to break the eye-contact. The guy looked dead fucking serious and the more terrifying part about the whole ordeal was that Jaehwan never wanted it to end. He enjoyed feeling stunted and defenseless. He reached inside his vest and slowly brought his pointer and thumb finger out into a heart-shape.  
  
It was coupled by that fucking wink.    
  
Wonshik closed his ice-cold fingers around Jaehwan’s extended wrist, forcibly tugging the human forward so that he was practically over the counter. Their faces were but an inch apart. “Oh, you poor thing, you’re _not_ frightened of me. You could _never_ be afraid.” Jaehwan relaxed instantly, allowing the words to wash over him like a spell, and perhaps they were. Why did he believe that he wasn’t scared? Shouldn’t he be? “I’m merely taking what’s mine. This is mine, isn’t it? You gave it to me.” He pressed his lips to the soft pads of the barista’s crossed fingers, his cool breath lingering against warm skin.  
  
Jaehwan couldn’t move, could hardly even think properly. It was a miracle that he could still form words, as he’d managed to ask, “Who are you?” He was on the brink of completely losing it. Did the customer just sniff him?      
   
“I’m your biggest fan.”  
  
Wonshik was slow to release him at first, but then how else was he going to get his slow dripped coffee? _Mm._ It wasn’t long before he was gingerly holding the cup in both hands, feeling somewhat triumphant. Jaehwan had even written his name out in English, dotting the ‘i’ in his name with a heart. He removed the cloud of lethargy from the room, allowing the humans to continue going about their business, as loudly as they wished. He had little patience for _busy_ and he hadn’t wanted to chance ruining his first encounter with Jaehwan.  
  
Stepping out into the night air, he practically hummed with each sip. It was the best cup of coffee he’d ever had, and yes, he was being completely biased.  
  
On the opposite side of the street, a girl was walking briskly, keeping to herself. Headphones blaring, messenger bag hugged close to her body. He couldn’t help noticing that she was wearing a BeanCha uniform. Wonshik rolled his eyes, trying to will away the homicidal thoughts starting to plague him. But then he felt something strange, something almost threatening, if not for how ludicrous it all was – judging the way her wide steps turned short, coming to a halt, she must’ve felt it too.  
  
She shook her head, as though to clear it, and then proceeded towards the store.  
  
The last time Wonshik had felt anything even remotely that ominous had been decades ago, when he’d been staring down a sacred dagger. The line of slayers was known to have been cleansed from the earth, no more, only existing within the hidden archives of his species. All documentation would read the same thing, the vampires had won, and the slayers lost.  
  
What was more perplexing to him was that she’d seemed so unaware. Why else wouldn’t she have known to take in her surroundings? Find the vampire, kill it. _Bad vampire, bad._ It was becoming more practical to believe that someone wasn’t properly trained. He was required to report it, but he wasn’t in the mood to deal with the vampire council, because vampire elders were bonerific dickbags.  
  
He ran his thumb across his written name on the cup, thinking. It would be so easy to snap her neck, eliminate what had the potential of turning into a real threat. Although, a bigger part of Wonshik was curious about what would happen if he allowed her to live. What if nothing happened, proving that the vampires had succeeded in keeping the slayer line a secret, even from themselves?  
  
Reaching inside his trouser pocket, he pulled out his phone, and hit enter on the familiar name. He started walking down the street again, listening to the ringing on the other end, until it stopped. “Taekwoon-ah! Finally you answered. I was beginning to think that it was personal.” Eh, it probably was. “Listen, I just saw the strangest thing. In fact, I may have even been a little triggered by it.”  
  
Silence was Taekwoon’s only response, but at least he hadn’t hung up yet. That was considered an improvement.  
  
“You remember our friends with the sacred daggers and blessed bullets? Chalices filled to the top with holy water, stronger than vodka or whiskey, yeah?” Wonshik paused, wondering if Taekwoon was still upset that he hadn’t found his brother sooner. Technically, he’d arrived just as he was about to be put to death, a welcome fate by that time. The only reason Wonshik was alive was because Taekwoon had saved him, but that was decades after he’d folded into the torture. He’d still been too late.  
  
Shuffling and then static from the shit weather interfering. Taekwoon’s soft voice answered, “Where are you?”  
  
Wonshik dropped the phone from his ear, hand down at his side, and pressed the button to hang up. He had to take this day for what it was, Jaehwan’s wink replaying on infinite loop in his mind.  
  
It was a fucking miracle.     

* * *

TBC? Let me know.


	2. New Demons

**A/N:** Hello! I’m sorry this chapter took so long to write. Things kept changing, becoming more intense, and writing itself. I honestly did not expect Wonshik to get physical in this chapter, but he did. I let a friend pick his victim. So, introducing Shinee's Taemin. I kept combing over this chapter, adding things, and removing things. I can’t be objective, so I don’t know if you guys will like what happens. Again, I wish I had a beta reader. I really do. I would benefit from it. I really do have to thank my friends, because they helped me out immensely. They encouraged me and read things over for me TT. I had written a lot with Leo x OFC with a side of BEAN, but we agreed that it would be overkill for this chapter, since it was already so long. Please look forward to reading it next chapter. Thanks for waiting so patiently!    
  
**+** NEW WARNINGS HAVE BEEN ADDED  
**+** Chapter pairing - Hakyeon x Sanghyuk / Wonshik x Taemin 

My friend, [Kei](https://twitter.com/whispered_cell) drew a doodle of Chapter One Wonshik and Jaehwan (I love it so much TT):

 

_  
_

* * *

**Slay Girl, Slay** _  
_

* * *

_‘If you believe in my little world,  
Tomorrow will have wonder.’_ – Salvina  & Drones  
  
Chapter Two: _New Demons_  


Sanghyuk was at his desk, hands smoothing the crisp white papers out in front of him. As a public official (he hated being called a tax collector), he was writing out fees for the local establishments, both recording, and confirming them. He was the most despised seat holder on the town council, all for appearing to be too young, while maintaining a high position of authority. He didn’t cut corners or accept bribery. He had all the money he could handle and frankly, it wasn’t worth going corrupt over. There was plenty of corruption going on without him directly being involved in it anyway.  
  
He rubbed at the side of his neck, the bite marks long since faded from his skin, but the spot was still sore. Actually, all of him ached – muscles protesting every slightest bit of movement. He hated to imagine what _not_ having Taekwoon’s blood in his system would have felt like. Sanghyuk adjusted in his seat, mouth falling slack upon the sharp pain that shot up his spine. He would never get used to being handled. Perhaps that was one of the many reasons why he wasn’t a pushover. He was so used to kneeling in front of Taekwoon that he couldn’t bear the thought of doing it for anyone else.  
  
It wasn’t in his nature to submit, a fact that he’d always been aware of, and it was possible that even Taekwoon had known, hence his punishment.  
  
He’d tested the theory, driving hours outside the state to stop off at a little dive bar on the highway. It was a shithole of a place, air thick with the stagnant stench of cigarette smoke and body odor. Funny how such a lowly establishment had become his refuge, always fully stocked with what he needed for the night. It helped him to better understand himself and what he was capable of. How wonderful it had been to learn that he had the ability to make women yield, locked within the cramped bathroom space with his cock slickened by their saliva and gloss.    
  
Females better suited Sanghyuk, because he didn’t run the risk of ever seeing the reflection of himself inside of them.  
  
With men, it was all too easy to relate the act to being with Taekwoon. And there was a sick, perverse part of him that rather enjoyed the role reversal, right up until the moment in which he didn’t. That was usually when they wanted to take over, have control over him, but he would never allow it. Sometimes his executive decisions didn’t go over well. Maybe he preferred that it didn’t on occasion, accepting the fights as swiftly as they’d come. The crack of bone beneath his knuckles was utterly intoxicating, reaffirming his belief that he was in fact, _strong_. Sanghyuk was tall, broad shouldered, an ideal specimen for just about any line of work. He had muscle and strength that he wanted to unleash, even if it meant straddling another man’s waist and letting loose until the face beneath his fist was no longer recognizable.    
  
Because he didn’t like to be fucking caged.   
  
The phone on his desk rang and he didn’t need to feel hesitant about picking it up. Taekwoon never called his work phone. “Yes?”  
  
The meek voice of his secretary informed him that there was an issue with a payment from one of the businesses, a modern café that was around the corner from Taekwoon’s dwelling. He recalled having problems with BeanCha in the past, nothing that wasn’t quick to be resolved, whenever it had pertained to dealing with Mr. Lee, anyway. It was the other one, Mr. Cha, who had always been stubborn.  
  
“He claims that he was never informed about the tax increase.”  
  
Sanghyuk leaned back in his chair, practically scoffing at how cheap the excuse was, “How ridiculous.”        
  
“And due to the fact that he was unaware, he feels that he is entitled to…”  
  
He narrowed his eyes then, not liking that word. Not one bit. _Entitled_. “He is entitled to nothing. Make sure to tell him that, along with sending him the late fee.”  
   
“That’s the thing, sir. Mr. Cha requested to speak with you personally on the matter.”  
  
“Did he now? It would be my pleasure.” Sanghyuk was in the mood to set someone straight tonight, even if it was one of the poor owners of BeanCha. He checked his watch and grimaced at the time. He hadn’t realized how late it was already. There was always tomorrow. He proceeded to look up their hours of operation, pleased to discover that they were still open, and would be for the remainder of the evening.  
  
He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, pulling the sleeves down in sharp, even tugs. After leaving Taekwoon’s, he had stopped by his place to take a quick shower and grab a new shirt, before returning to work earlier. He found himself replacing a majority of his belongings due to the vampire’s mistreatment. There were so few things that Sanghyuk prided himself in and his appearance was one of them. The cost had never touched him, but that wasn’t the problem. It was that over the long years of his existence certain items had become irreplaceable.  
  
One of his favorite pieces was hanging back at his studio, utterly ruined with a set of Taekwoon’s claw marks slashed through its middle. Despite that, he refused to take it down. It was more symbolic now, than it had been while it was in mint condition. During his short time as a curator, he’d been allowed to look over timeless valuables and historical treasures. Each piece had resonated something within him, but he’d desperately needed to have _Dante and Virgil in Hell_ from the moment he’d saw it.     
  
Sanghyuk closed his eyes and held in a breath.  
  
At first glance, the painting seemed to display intimacy shared by two men. The one being subdued in the picture was receiving a bite to the front of his throat, fingers wound tightly in the assailant’s hair to stop him from what looked like attempted murder should the bite puncture too deeply. Sanghyuk knew why he enjoyed the illustration, having found it relatable to his current predicament. Oddly enough, it had only given him comfort, instead of grief.    
  
Taekwoon stepped next to him, dark eyes taking in the framed art with a hint of amusement, seeming to know of his human’s thoughts, ‘Dante and Virgil in Hell by William Adolphe Bouguereau.’ The vampire uncrossed his arms and moved to stand in front of Sanghyuk, as though to separate him from the painting. ‘The two men fighting are Capocchio and Schicchi, the heretic and the thief. Two damned souls.’  
  
Sanghyuk remembered reading Dante’s Inferno and The Divine Comedy, having strongly preferred the latter. He spoke quietly, unable to meet the heavy gaze he felt burning into him then, ‘They will bite at each other for all of eternity.’  
  
Taekwoon leaned closer, the intimate tone in which he spoke with giving away his hunger. ‘And after an eternity of all that biting, at what point do you think they started to enjoy it?’  
  
Sanghyuk took an entire step backwards, nearly stumbling – but Taekwoon was fast, faster than he could ever hope to keep up with. He was holding the human by his wrists, keeping Sanghyuk upright. A chill wracked throughout his body when he felt Taekwoon’s cold breath at the side of his neck, becoming still. He wouldn’t, not here.  
  
‘Answer me.’ Although Taekwoon’s voice was soft, he recognized a command when he heard one. And he’d felt it, too – that odd, warm sensation of the vampire’s thrall. It was a magic that could not be resisted or fought against. He’d borne witness to it, seen it used against others, and experienced it personally time and time again. Its only function was to take away all self-control.       
  
Sanghyuk slumped forward weakly, legs rendered useless while in Taekwoon’s embrace. ‘I doubt they could ever see past their hatred. The both of them trapped in the eighth circle of Hell, where they would only have each other. Forever.’  
  
Taekwoon nuzzled closer against the pulse thrumming along Sanghyuk’s neck, inhaling sharply. Fear was practically seeping from his every pore. ‘Hatred has the potential to turn into passion, but it is when passion turns into hatred that it becomes dangerous. Since hatred can only intensify that passion, it then turns into an obsession, and obsession into mania. You see?’  
  
‘ _Please_ , not here…’ He was seconds away from begging when he felt the points of Taekwoon’s fangs pressing into his skin, having yet to pierce through. There was something off. The people surrounding them in the gallery weren’t reacting, weren’t moving, but they were watching – glossy-eyed with enchantment, but it was like no one could actually _see_ them. Once the terrifying realization dawned on him, that it was Taekwoon’s doing, the vampire bit into his neck, releasing Sanghyuk’s wrists to grab him around the waist.  
  
He’d tried telling himself that it had been a nightmare. One day he hoped to believe it.  
       
BeanCha was a twenty minute drive away from his office. The streets grew busier the later it got, not unlike what the district was known for, as kids poured from the clubs. It made finding a decent parking space difficult and Sanghyuk was half tempted to mow them all down just to secure a spot. He’d never been to BeanCha, but he was able to find it with ease, for there was a giant bear sitting on top one of the crammed buildings sipping what appeared to be a green tea latte. Its eyes followed Sanghyuk every which way, giving him a mild case of the creeps.  
  
He pushed the door opened, welcomed by the strong smell of fresh coffee. The temperature difference from outside was instantaneous. He’d never been more grateful for the rush of warmth, seeing as how the long trek from his car to the shop left his fingers feeling unpleasantly numb. He took in his surroundings, seeing that the colors used for the café’s interior were muted, making the dark tables and framed paintings stand out more, almost harsh in contrast. There was a separate section that had been set aside for stationary, candles, and charms. Those same candles were being used around the shop, carefully lit and placed where accidents were less likely to happen.  
  
Sanghyuk approached the counter and was stopped short, recognizing the girl who’d signed the lease less than a week ago. Leave it to the universe to place him in these awkward situations. He’d yet to talk to her about Taekwoon’s decision of getting rid of her.  
  
She was just as surprised to see him. “Oh! It’s you.” Her laugh was sweet almost, if not for the snort that had followed directly after it. “What can I get for you this evening?”  
  
There was a guy with a matching set of puffy bear ears working on the drip machine, hair light enough to standout, and sporting the second biggest nose he’d ever seen – the first being his own. He doubted this guy was one of BeanCha’s owners.  
  
Sanghyuk slowly tore his eyes away, “I’m afraid that I’m here on business. Is your boss in today?”  
  
“Yes, Mr. Cha is here. Would you like for me to go get him?” That was who he looked forward to speaking with anyway, to put an end to their little misunderstanding right now.  
  
“That would be good.” _‘Wise,’_ Sanghyuk thought. “Thank you.”  
  
Once she was gone, he turned towards the small setup of non-coffee related items. The stationary was cute enough, profitable. The pages had amateur doodles of people with sizeable noses on them. It probably had something to do with the guy behind the counter. He didn’t seem all there. _‘Jaehwan’_ , his nametag had read. The charms were made from acrylic, pink and purple sakura petals with beaded string. The candles though, he could smell them from where he stood, and they smelled positively wonderful…  
  
He was tempted to pick one up and bring it to his face for further inspection, but decided against it when Mr. Cha approached him. He was already extending his hand and giving his name, which Sanghyuk already knew due to his job. The café owner wasn’t what Sanghyuk had been expecting. He was tall, but not _as_ tall, with a honey-tanned complexion, as though his veins housed the sun itself. And just like the blunt opposites of the café’s décor, the white top he was wearing stood out against his skin. He had an air about him that seemed soft and softness wasn’t something that Sanghyuk was used to dealing with.  
  
Aside from those details, the cheap actions of Hakyeon had suggested someone who was at least middle aged or older. Married couples were the most shameless among humans. Perhaps it would turn out that Hakyeon was just a dull, young man who enjoyed his coupon clippings? _Dull, young man…_ Sanghyuk would have to remember that he was nearly two hundred years of age, even if he sure as fuck didn’t look it.  
  
“Mr. Han.” Even Hakyeon’s voice was gentle. Sanghyuk couldn’t keep himself from melting a little from the sound of it. It was so soothing, like the soft pit-pat of rain against glass. “It’s lovely to meet you, finally. Please, come have a seat.”  
  
Hakyeon pulled out a chair from one of the nearby tables and stood quietly behind it, left hand braced on the back of the wood. There wasn’t a wedding ring, although in this day and age, that didn’t mean much. _Dull. Young. Man._ Why was he so cheap? When it was obvious that Sanghyuk didn’t intend on moving, the other man straightened slightly, picking up on the tension that rolled off Sanghyuk’s body. “How about something to drink?”  
  
“That isn’t necessary. I won’t be staying long.” All manners of ass kissing were the same, so it didn’t particularly matter whether they were standing, sitting, or sipping lattes.  
  
A soft look of confusion touched Hakyeon’s delicate features, “Oh.” And even though Hakyeon looked tender and kind, his dark eyes were sharp then.  
  
How fucking erotic. Sanghyuk wanted to play with this new fire. He wanted to nurture it, cultivate it, make it all his, and then snuff it out just as fast – immediately.  
  
But instead, he chose to make a show of things, checking the time on his vintage _Bell & Ross_ with an exasperated sigh. “My secretary mentioned that you were not aware of the new tax increase throughout the county.” He then moved straight to the point, since being around Mr. Cha of BeanCha was turning out all wrong. Professionalism was about to take a dangerous leap out the goddamn window.  
  
He didn’t feel safe _for_ Hakyeon.  
  
It was uncomfortable, standing there wondering how much sharper Hakyeon’s eyes could become, if the café owner was capable of harboring hatred for him, and if so, how deep could it go? Sanghyuk wanted to know if he could make Hakyeon cry and if he’d still look just as lovely. He had a strong inkling that resounded ‘most likely’ at the back of his mind. How easy would it be to get those tears to fall?  
  
“The whole county...?  But it didn’t specify…” Hakyeon had to stop himself, wincing once he realized his misstep. The truth bled out between them, swirling in the murkiness of his lie. He’d received the letter, but he didn’t accept the new fee. And for as many times as he’d read the details over, he didn’t recall the document ever stating that it was countywide.      
  
Sanghyuk narrowed his eyes, “Exactly _how_ was it not specific?” He tilted his head when Hakyeon didn’t answer him, tapping two of his fingers on top of the table to gain his attention. “What, you thought we only raised the taxes on _your_ shop? For what reasons would we have to do such a thing? What makes BeanCha special enough to become a target?”  
  
“I don’t…” Hakyeon paused, at a loss for words – something that probably didn’t happen often, cheeks visibly flushed from the embarrassment. “It was my mistake.”  
  
“Yes. Clearly.” Sanghyuk slowly rounded the table, short nails skimming over the polished oak, drawing nearer. Hakyeon grew curious the more distance between them dwindled, standing completely still. “You’ll receive a bill in the mail with an additional fee for being late on your payment.” Sanghyuk stopped when he was but mere inches away from touching Hakyeon, practically towering above him from the height difference. “Oh, and Mr. Cha. You really don’t want to put off paying it, or else the next time I’m here could very well be to shut you down. Then what would become of you, without your bear ears, and your candles?”  
  
Hakyeon’s mouth fell open with a huff of revulsion. This guy couldn’t have been older than twenty-four. How he’d landed a town position at such a young age was beyond him. In fact, Sanghyuk was a clear cut example of why such things shouldn’t be allowed to happen. He was selfish and arrogant, acting as though he were justified – even in this very moment, where Hakyeon was treated as a lesser, too far beneath him. Sanghyuk was probably born with a silver-spoon in his mouth, pedestal up so high that he deemed himself untouchable.       
  
“Listen, _kid_.” Hakyeon stepped into the collector’s space, further compromising those few short inches between them. He could smell the mint coming off of Sanghyuk’s breath, the spice of his cologne, trying so desperately to grapple onto the remains of his sanity, because Han Sanghyuk was infuriatingly attractive, despite all of his flaws. “At the end of the day, I’m still your elder, and whether this is business or not, I deserve the respect.”  
  
Sanghyuk’s hand stopped when his arm was beside Hakyeon’s hip, able to feel the heat radiating from the other man’s skin, wanting so badly just to taste the sun. His voice was hushed due to their closeness, the opportunity to drop a well-placed proposition was too delicious for him to pass up, “And _how_ would you like to receive my respect?”    
  
“What do you mean, ‘how’?” Hakyeon asked, shivering involuntarily the more he fought to keep his body firm. The last thing he needed was Sanghyuk to have intimate knowledge of the effects he was having on the café owner at the moment.     
  
Sanghyuk moved to whisper, mouth brushing purposefully over the shell of Hakyeon’s ear when he spoke, “ _Where_ would you like to receive my respect?” The implication of Sanghyuk’s words set his skin on fire, the offer he was proposing more than an obvious one, and Hakyeon felt ashamed. Ashamed, because a part of him was tempted by it, yet the bigger part of him was livid.  
  
And it was that raw, unadulterated moment of rage that made him act on impulse.  
  
The response was automatic, air thick as though they were both underwater, anger wound so heavy and tight in Hakyeon’s chest like weighted stones. The impact of Hakyeon’s palm meeting Sanghyuk’s cheek was loud in the room, echoing at the back of his furious mind. The café owner was satisfied when he felt the tingling sensation of pain in his fingers, convinced that it had hurt.  
  
Sanghyuk kept his face turned to the side, tongue seeking out the sting from where his teeth had punctured his flesh. When he tasted the blood in his mouth, he laughed short, both stunned and elated. He was fucking giddy about it, his heart pulsing in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long while. Get too close to the sun and you’ll get burned. Sanghyuk was straightening himself out a minute later, the imprint of Hakyeon’s hand already gone, thanks to the unwanted benefits of Taekwoon’s blood.  
  
There were no words left to be shared between them on the matter, because Hakyeon wasn’t sorry, and Sanghyuk wouldn’t have it any other way. The BeanCha owner’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, deep red splotches painting his skin, the complete opposite of Sanghyuk’s calm.  
  
As though a scene hadn’t just unfolded, Sanghyuk asked, “I need a moment with one of your employees. Do you mind?”  
  
Hakyeon shook his head mutely.  
  
Sanghyuk went back to the counter, smiling at the girl when she greeted him again. “I need to speak with you for a moment, in private.”  
  
“Uhm, alright. Sure. It’s not about the noise is it? I was hanging up some pictures earlier.” She said, as she untied her apron. Then she looked over at the guy named Jaehwan. “Hey, can you watch my register for a few minutes?”  
  
The guy nodded, adjusting his headband, and scooting on over.  
  
“No, it’s nothing like that, I can assure you.” It was much worse. She was about to become homeless. He waited until they were in one of the secluded areas of the café, a section where no customers were currently being seated. “The problem is that the landlord has decided not to rent out the top apartment after all.” He fished into his pocket and retrieved an envelope with the rent she’d paid. “I’m very sorry.”  
  
She pointed at the item he was holding, “Don’t hand that to me. We’re not breaking the lease. There aren’t any legal grounds for it.”  
  
“I agree with you, but I’m only the messenger.” Sanghyuk raised the envelope to her, setting his better judgment aside, and decided to go ahead and put her in harm’s way. Hell, the moment she’d signed the lease, she’d dug her own grave. “If you have a problem, then you’ll have to take it up with the landlord personally.”  
  
“That’s funny, because I thought I already was! So, if you’re not the landlord, then who the hell – you know what? Never mind, I don’t care.” She snatched the money from his hand and tucked it away inside her pocket. “I think you should go, before I ask my boss to come over here and slap the shit out of your other cheek.”  
  
_‘You’ll probably be dead soon, anyway.’_ He thought, while he headed out without saying another word, but not before meeting Hakyeon’s eyes for one last time. It was a pity that he hadn’t cried, because it would have been beautiful.

Wonshik placed his empty BeanCha drink on the table. It was now a decorative centerpiece in his living room, doomed to stay there for the rest of eternity. If he could, he’d put the cheap paper cup behind glass and dust it every Friday. Except his place was mostly bare, having been neglected of the finer things, like floor to ceiling glass cabinets.  
  
The vampire wasn’t alone this evening, having brought home a guest.    
  
The kid had given his name at some point, but he already forgot it. Only one person truly mattered to him as of late, but that particular human was most likely still making coffee drinks for his ( _very much alive and female_ ) admirers. He should have used thrall, brought Jaehwan back with him, even if it was just for a cuddle and a nibble. He deserved it – Wonshik had a traumatizing experience this evening and he was in need of comfort.  
  
The slayer he saw earlier was still fresh in his mind, as he replayed how lost she’d been, so unaware, having felt him on instinct, but not knowing what it meant. His only action had been to reach for his phone and whine to Taekwoon like a child. Wonshik should have killed her on principle. The slayers were eradicated, an entire bloodline buried. She was never meant to exist, yet he did nothing, except call...     
  
Not like it accomplished anything.  
  
Taekwoon’s voice had sounded like crappy radio static, muddled even in his memory, asking him softly, ‘Where are you?’ He’d been surprised that his brother even answered the phone to begin with. The last time they spoke to one another was back when he’d been freed from captivity, the night he’d been saved. It made him feel sick.   
  
“Remove your shirt.”  
  
The human was quick to obey, shedding himself of his thick layered jacket, and the heavy sweater beneath it. Wonshik watched with no real interest, although his glacier blue eyes were alit with hunger, seeming to burn bright in the dark. There would be little beauty in their exchange, for the boy was nothing more than a takeout box with legs. The cotton top that he was wearing fell to the floor at his feet and Wonshik paused, realizing that his meal was much younger than he’d originally pegged him for.  
  
He would just have to ease himself into it, then.  
  
“I ran into a slayer this evening. Ah, I forgot to tell you. I’m a vampire. You probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway,” Wonshik reasoned, as he unbuttoned the middle of his suit jacket, and placed it over the arm of his chaise lounge chair. He didn’t want to chance getting any blood on it. The probability was high due to the fact that he was a messy eater, leaving countless suits ruined in the aftermath of active feedings. Once blood was on the material, it was impossible for Wonshik not to smell it, even after it would come back from the cleaners. “So, I usually don’t bother with telling humans most of the time. I mean, it’s more like a, ‘find out later while I’m biting you’ sort of thing, but since it pertains to the topic at hand, why not.”   
  
“Aren’t you worried?” The thrall made the boy open to influence, yet completely lucid, comfortable with a conversation that he would have considered unusual otherwise.  
  
“Worried? No. I don’t have any worries.” Wonshik sat against the velvet cushions and patted a spot on his knee. The angle would be easier for his feeding, better leverage. “Come, sit with me. Remind me what your name is again?”  
  
“Taemin,” he said, small legs bringing him to stand in front of Wonshik. The boy was so thin, resembling such fragile beauty. There was hardly any meat on him, bones protruding, and stomach sunken in. It reminded him of the slim pickings back in 1340 – the middle ages, where the plague had swept over Europe, clearing humans out like it was getting rid of dust mites.  
  
“Taemin, I’m going to tell you an unsettling story about my history with slayers.” The boy nodded in acknowledgment, as he crawled into Wonshik’s lap. It was when his warm skin met the vampire’s cool body that he’d let out a startled gasp. It was like leaning against a block of ice. “Yeah, well, I’m dead. What were you expecting? Anyways, the girl I was feeding from on that fateful night was carrying a poison in her system. It was undetectable, even to my senses and Tae, do you mind if I call you, ‘Tae’? Tae, I have very sharp senses, like a shark but with excellent eyesight. Now just imagine how long it had taken me to feed freely after that little doozy.”  
  
Taemin grew stiff when he felt Wonshik’s long fingers tangling in the golden strands of his shoulder length hair. He tugged lightly at the ends, when Taemin asked, “Who was she?”   
  
“A volunteer who didn’t have a lot of time left, so pumping her full of toxins wasn’t an issue. At first, I’d been flattered that they’d gone through all that effort just to catch me. What frightened me about being captured was just that. I’d been captured, but not killed. If they don’t kill you, then that’s bad, Tae.” He suddenly yanked the boy’s head back against his shoulder, keeping him there without having to apply force. Taemin’s teeth started to chatter from the cold in the room, since there wasn’t any real source of heat. Furthermore, he was being held tightly against the frozen skin beneath him.  
  
He swallowed thickly, trying to control the trembling in his voice – progressively failing. “W-What did t-they do to you?”  
  
“They used me to find out what stung the most, and with my agony, they’d discovered new inventive ways of harming my kind. Then they would bring a vampire back to my room to see the torture up close simply for the satisfaction of making me squirm, and then afterwards, they’d thank me for it. Give credit where credit is due and all that…” He could still smell the nauseating citrus cleaning product from the facility, even with the human seated obediently in his lap, so soft and close to him then. “I lied to you. I did have one concern. I was always worried that the vampire they hauled in next would be my brother. I used to hallucinate it, watching faces blur into that of his features.”  
  
“I-I’m so s-sorry.” Taemin had meant it, too. Mythical being or not, no one deserved to be tortured. Not even a bug, in his opinion.  
  
Wonshik decided that he’d felt better, more comfortable with his prey since venting.  
  
“Mmmm, Tae, the next few moments are going to hurt, and it’s going to feel like the pain will last forever, but I can make it feel good though.” Wonshik promised, as he trailed his hand down the flat surface of Taemin’s stomach, listening to the slight hitch in the boy’s breathing, the way his heart sped up, how violently he was shivering against him. He unbuttoned Taemin’s jeans and slowly trailed the zipper down over his length.  
  
“Do you want me to?” Taemin stammered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of himself as his palm inched further up Wonshik’s thigh, asking with silent permission.    
  
“You’ll please me just fine with your blood, Tae. Besides, I’m saving myself for someone,” Wonshik mused, having fantasized about the moment when he’d finally get to sink his fangs deep into Jaehwan’s slender neck. Fuck – tasting him on his tongue, sucking on him like a hard candy, until he begged for it all to stop.  
  
The hand that’d been holding Taemin by his hair was slowly teasing across the boy’s chest, pinching an erect nipple between two fingers.  
  
He arched his back against Wonshik, gasping almost shamefully, “Aah…”  
  
“We’ve only just started, Tae.” The deep timbre of his voice washed over Taemin pleasantly, his cool breath tickling the small hairs on the back of his neck. “Show me your cock.”  
  
Taemin hadn’t needed to be influenced at that point, as he found out that he was more than willing to pull himself free from his boxers, showing Wonshik the swollen tip of his member. It was already glistening with precum, obvious arousal exposed, proving how painfully hard he was to the vampire’s open scrutiny.      
  
Wonshik’s eyelids fell heavily, as he basked in the heady spice that teased at his senses. The boy in his arms was beautiful, deserving of every appraisal, even if he was just an end to his hunger. “You’re such a pretty thing, but that’s not so surprising, now is it?” Taemin fought to shake his head in agreement, knowing full well that he was good looking. A rumble erupted deep in Wonshik’s chest, as he chuckled low. “Now get yourself wet for me. I want to touch you.”  
  
He pressed a lingering kiss to the spot where he intended to bite, settling on the smooth area between Taemin’s neck and shoulder. He could feel the pulse racing against his cold lips, when he circled the area with the tip of his tongue, before he nipped playfully at the skin there. Half the fun was the _need_ to be careful with humans. It was all too easy to forget with bodies so easy to tear through, like pieces of paper enduring minimal amounts of pressure.  
  
Taemin had two fingers between his thick lips, working to slick each digit with his saliva, before rubbing it over the head of his cock, and working his way down, until he was practically dripping.  
  
Wonshik closed his thumb and pointer finger over the nipple he’d been teasing, pulling until the boy cried out softly. It was easy to work him up, deemed as a pleasant additive to Wonshik’s meal. Taemin’s chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, when he felt his hand being swatted away, and replaced with the vampire’s ice cold fingers. They curled loosely over his hot, sticky length. The shock of Wonshik’s cool temperature made him tense, but soon he was relaxing into the gentle strokes, brought back to the moment.  
  
“So beautiful, Tae…”  
  
Taemin’s hips started moving on their own accord, encouraged by the hushed words against his ear, meeting every downward motion of Wonshik’s closed palm. It was when he’d become more brazen, lost in the reverie of Wonshik’s skilled hand working over his cock, that he felt a sharp pain at the side of his neck – Wonshik’s fangs buried into his soft skin. The warm blood filled the vampire’s mouth, as he swallowed it back in generous gulps. He might’ve punctured too deeply, judging by the fact that the flow was so easy, so quick. All Taemin could do was whimper, overcome by the uneven balance of pleasure, and now mostly pain.  
  
Wonshik’s wrist turned at the base of Taemin’s cock, consistently changing rhythm before he could get used to it and buck his hips into each movement, keeping Taemin on edge, and unable to fall. He forced himself to pull away from Taemin’s neck with a pained groan. It was less than a second when crimson spilled from Wonshik’s lips into his palm, reaching back between Taemin’s shaking thighs. He lathered the boy in his own hot blood, using it to better stroke over his length, the sounds loud and wet in the quiet room.  
  
It was both amazing and terrifying all at once, as the heartbeat within Taemin’s chest started to slow exponentially, yet he felt as though he were soaring. Wonshik’s mouth was on him again, suckling and lapping at his torn skin. The low growls made the boy keep his arms strewn about the chair, afraid to cling to Wonshik, but still desperate to hold onto something. If he died like this, it might not be such a bad thing.  
  
Again – movements flashed in front of his peripheral, the cold hand that was splayed across his chest was being shoved roughly against his mouth, warm liquid pouring to the back of his throat before he could think to stop it. And it was thick like honey and sweet on his tongue, a quick forming addiction. Taemin closed his eyes, moaning when the effects of the vampire’s blood started seeping into his bloodstream. He felt drugged-out, hips rolling to meet every fluid motion of Wonshik’s wrist, chasing after his release – inclined to believe that Wonshik would only continue to play otherwise.  
  
“That’s it, Tae. Take what’s yours…” Wonshik murmured between the slow dragging of his tongue, attentively going over the twin marks on Taemin’s neck. He was pleased that the wounds closed up before any real damage could be done.  
  
The tendons of Taemin’s neck strained, as he curled back against the cool chest behind him, tears prickling his eyes when he felt himself finally release, spurts of cum painting across his stomach, and the tops of Wonshik’s knuckles. The strokes continued throughout his high, making the muscles in his thighs spasm from overstimulation. Even though the gash in Wonshik’s arm had long since healed itself, he’d kept his skin pressed to the boy’s mouth, enjoying the feel of him trying to suck more blood, fighting to get air through his nose from his fruitless attempts.  
  
He carefully removed himself from Taemin’s lips to rub over the soft skin of the boy’s stomach, fingers buried in the mess above his pubic bone. “You’ve made a big mess, Tae.” Wonshik started feeding the sticky substance back to Taemin, satisfied with every ‘pop’ that came from his fingers being let go of. “You know, I wasn’t going to let you go at first. I really was going to kill you.”  
  
Taemin could feel the cold again. “I know.”  
  
“Get dressed.” This time Wonshik made a point of watching with interest, because he’d said an awful lot to this human and he was going to allow him to keep his life, which was a confusing concept to him. It wasn’t as though Wonshik killed all of his meals, but he didn’t bring them home, either. He’d brought Taemin back to his place with the intention of killing him. He wanted to take his time doing it.  
  
Because today he was reminded that he was once a slave and that the slayers had played with him like he was a goddamn board game on Family fun night. It brought him back to that one time where they’d drained him of all the blood in his body, so that he couldn’t heal himself. Then they’d introduced him to the tri-whip, only stopping in their onslaught once he was rendered unconscious, because what would be the point of torturing him if he wasn’t screaming anymore. Since he’d been too weak to regenerate, the wounds hadn’t closed up in time, and they’d ended up as scars.   
  
Taemin was fully clothed, bundled up in his hideous red coat and chunky muffler. Wonshik rose to his feet with a wistful expression, almost sad that it was time to say goodbye. He braced his hands on the tops of Taemin’s small shoulders, drawing his attention. Meeting Wonshik’s eyes was like staring far out into the depths of two crystals, but they’d lost their glow after he’d fed.  
  
“Tae, you’re going to forget now. Nothing that happened tonight was real. What we did or the story I told you. There are no vampires or slayers in this world. I approached you while you were outside the club with your friends, but you turned me down, and I didn’t take it well.” Wonshik grasped the sides of Taemin’s face, holding him even closer, while his thumbs rubbed idle circles into his soft skin. “You felt sorry for me, so you asked if you could walk me home. You’re so kind like that, Tae…”              
  
“Are you feeling better now?” Taemin asked, as he slowly stepped away from Wonshik’s touch. The thrall had started to work. “It’s dark in here. Put a light on, will you?”  
  
Wonshik smiled, “Let me walk you out.”  
     
He made a point to turn the light on once Taemin was gone, then he grabbed his hand-phone and unlocked the screen, expecting there to be a missed call from Taekwoon, but there wasn’t one. Instead, there was a notification from the Daum café he was subscribed to.  
  
Under the category _To My Babies_ was a post made by Jaehwan less than twenty minutes ago.  
  
The diary entry read:  
  
_Brrr! It’s ssso cold out~~!  
Are you keeping warm, my babies? TT TT TT  
Did you eat~?  
Are you healthy~?  
Huing~~ come keep me company and I'll make you something delicious!  _     
  
[ **Picture** ]  
  
He clicked on the image. The angle was taken from up high. The BeanCha bear ears were irritatingly adorable on him with his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish – completing his pose with a perfect wink. How could Jaehwan still even think straight after their encounter, let alone take a picture, and make a post ( _which hadn’t even mentioned said encounter_ )?  
  
Wonshik sighed hopelessly, stepping inside his bathroom. He turned the bathwater to its hottest setting and plugged the tub, so it could fill up. He’d behaved himself today and it wasn’t an easy task. Things could have gone worse, impulse constantly at his fingertips. He could have done things that were a lot worse. He could have killed Taemin. No, he could have fucked Taemin. Now that he’d seen Jaehwan’s online flirting, perhaps he should have – should have messaged the photos on over to the barista, slap the aegyo right off his handsome, flirty fucking face.  
  
Standing there with his cold bare feet against the equally cold tiles, Wonshik felt utterly alone.    
  


* * *

TBC?


	3. Old Heroes

**A/N:** Hello! Thank you for all of the kudos, guys. Those are a lot of kudos, but I feel really disheartened writing this story. Last chapter had one comment, which I appreciate, a lot, but writers need feedback as a source of fuel. I literally stare at these chapters for days, fixing, tuning, and wondering how I could make it better. I don't know if I'm doing a good job or not and I can't keep going without the fuel.    
  
**+** Chapter pairing: Taekwoon x OC. 

 

 

 [Kei](https://twitter.com/whispered_cell) drew me another gift! It's so cute, BeanCha Jaehwan T ^ T 

  
_"Wonshik clicked on the image. The angle was taken from up high. The BeanCha bear ears were irritatingly adorable on him with his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish – completing his pose with a perfect wink."_

* * *

**Slay Girl, Slay**

* * *

_‘An ugly confession._  
_I feel so unstable,_  
_when it’s out on the table._ ’ – Zella Day  
  
Chapter Three: _Old Heroes_  
  
Her shift finally ended and she couldn’t have been more relieved, since she’d been thinking about the envelope she’d shoved inside her bag all night. Out of sight, out of mind didn’t mean anything once Sanghyuk had left. Jaehwan had to keep nudging her from her thoughts just to focus. She’d messed up two orders, which didn’t sit well with Mr. Cha, at all – predictably. When he’d scolded her a bit harsher than usual, she sat there and took it, because he clearly wasn’t having a great night either. She kept on recalling the slap that resounded throughout the whole café and would end up smiling like an idiot.  
  
She unlocked the door to her apartment and tossed her keys in the bowl on the table. If the landlord wasn’t Sanghyuk, then who the hell was it? She thought he was the one living in the bottom apartment this whole time. She grabbed the envelope and proceeded to walk around the side of the house. There were two sets of stone stairs between her and the basement door. It was also six in the morning and she was slightly delirious due to lack of sleep. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time for a confrontation, but she wouldn’t be able to rest until the issue was resolved.  
  
A cold wind blew through her, seeming to give her a slight push down each step she gained, until she was standing in front of the door. Piles of mail and dried leaves were scattered about like a floor made up of foliage and litter. She knocked a couple times, since there was no doorbell, striking her as a bit odd, but it was possible that the place was so old that the landlord hadn’t bothered with it.  
  
There was no answer.  
  
She tried again, using the brass doorknocker this time. It was in the shape of a lion’s head, antique and heavy in her hand. After the fifth attempt, she’d been set to turn around and leave, thinking she’d have better luck with the phone number, when the door suddenly swung open. She readied herself to plead her case, but there wasn’t anyone standing there. It was just an empty space.  
  
_The hell?_  
  
The girl leaned in, both hands braced on the outside frame. “Hello?” There really was no one there. Even all of the lights were off, leaving the hallway nearly pitch dark. She felt along the wall for a switch and skeptically eyed how the lights flickered to life and then dimmed low when she’d finally found it. It did very little to illuminate what was in front of her and to make matters worse, there was an odd humming noise coming from the bulbs, as though they were ready to burst at any second.  
  
She’d thought of the possibility that the landlord was old, unable to hear her well. Not able to replace their shitty light fixture.     
  
As if on cue, the lights went bright again, before dimming. It seemed to be in a correlating pattern of every five seconds. She made the decision to step inside the rest of the way, unsure of whether or not she should remove her shoes. Her gut instinct told her to leave and never return, but then there was that other part of her. The other side that she’d never understood and didn’t particularly want to, never making an honest effort. It told her to go further, even though it could be dangerous, to take leaps when there was no chance of her ever making it. The more frightening aspect had been when it told her to hurt someone. On her way to work last night she’d felt it there like a presence and was determined to ignore it, otherwise she would have run home to hide behind the locks.  
  
In truth, that was why she’d been hesitant about leaving the sanctuary. She’d never had those thoughts or feelings at the church. It was always a safe place.     
  
She waited the five seconds for the lights to go steady, hoping to get a proper look down the hallway. There was a dark figure crouched at the far end of it. The longer she stared at it for, the more she creeped herself out. It was easy to mistake the shadow for a statue, until it _moved_ – slowly picking itself up from the floor. The ‘it’ was quickly upgraded to a ‘he’, as terror settled heavily within her chest. For a moment she didn’t hear anything, except for the rapid pounding of her heart.  
  
He was watching her through the dark strands of hair covering his eyes, completely silent, merely observing.      
  
_‘Fucking hell,_ ’ she thought, as a breath escape her tight lungs, body so tensed up with fear that it was  painful to even speak right, “Are you the – landlord…?” It didn’t really matter anymore, because it was clearly time to go, and she’d been in the wrong for trespassing in the first place. Just as she went to turn, sending the signal up to her brain, making it fully aware of her intended actions – it malfunctioned quicker than a Dell laptop.  
  
It felt like she was paralyzed with both feet glued to the floor and arms weighed down at her sides. All that she could do was stare back into the void of his eyes and wait, trying to so desperately make out the shadow that had turned into a man. There was something wild about the way he looked at her then, like he was fighting to restrain himself. What’s more was the fact that he’d yet to say anything, not even to question her business, let alone answer her previous inquiry.      
  
Then the lights went out.    
  
She started counting inside her head, _‘5, 4, 3, 2, 1…’_  
  
Every five seconds when the hallway would go bright again, she would take mental notes, that he had black hair and pale skin. He was tall and broad – then she’d meet his dark eyes and all of that useless information would be wiped clean from her mind, only leaving her with the horrifying realization that he was coming closer with steps that had gone unseen whenever the lights went out. His footfalls were quiet in the narrowed space, not even making a sound.  
  
That other instinct was flaring up at full force, urging her to do harm, to fight against it – to fight him if necessary. And somehow, she could sense his strength, could feel it so acutely. The long history of violence that he carried around with him was like a cloak or second skin. She couldn’t shove away instinct or the warning signs. It was like a shitty popup window that couldn’t be minimized. How much of it was true or just complete bullshit that her psycho, unstable mind had come up with on the spot to justify these crazy impulses?      
  
He paused in his approach, regarding her with little interest. “Why are you here, human?”  
  
_Human?_ Well, that was an odd choice of phrasing, **period**. It went down as feasible serial killer lingo in her book, which had done nothing to make her feel any safer. Aside from that terrifying tidbit, there was also the charming lilt to his voice, all smooth and soft, and borderline unfair. It was the exact opposite of what one might expect their killer to sound like.  
  
She chose to ignore his question, using every last ounce of guts to sound threatening, “You better stop coming closer, ‘cause if you don’t, you’re going to find yourself in a world of hurt, buddy.” The light between them died just as his eyes narrowed in response to her empty threat. A small gust of air blew in front of her face, flyaway hairs shifting from the sudden flash of movement. It was five seconds later when the light returned that he was standing directly in front of her.  
  
There was a scream trapped inside her throat, unable to come out when she felt a warm sensation crawling over her skin, the thrall cocooning her in tightly. She was unable to react. No running, no screaming – unable to even think or feel properly. It felt like that one time she’d taken too much Xanax, too calm and subdued to do much of anything. Instead, she stared at the hard line of his chest where his black sweater was open, finding it strange that she could see the web of his veins so prominently. He resembled a corpse, a mildly attractive corpse.      
  
A cold hand took her chin between two fingers, tilting her face upwards to meet his dead gaze, “You will only speak when it is to answer a question, do you understand me?”  
  
The response was automatic, slipping past her lips without a single pause, “Yes.”  
  
Whenever a thought or an idea would try to blossom in her mind, the intent to follow through with it would immediately fade. She felt restricted, trapped within a spell with no real hope of ever escaping.     
  
“Why are you here?” He asked the question sweetly this time, as if knowing that the answers would come freely now.  
  
And freely they did. “I’m here, because Sanghyuk told me that the lease was to be broken, and that I would need to take it up with the landlord if I had a problem.”  
  
“Sanghyuk.” He said with a sneer, seemingly amused by the prospect, for a reason that she obviously wasn’t going to be clued in on. “I don’t know whether to be annoyed or touched by his actions. It’s said that you shouldn’t turn a child’s gift away, so I will take what he has so graciously offered me.” He was slow to release her at first, fingertips already missing the warmth of her skin, contemplative. “Come.”  
  
The girl followed closely behind him, body readily obeying his every command. She couldn’t control herself, which was a fact that she’d refused to acknowledge completely, until that very moment. In order to believe in what was happening to her, she would have to store logic someplace else. Maybe she was under some form of hypnosis? Maybe he was superhuman? She applied every comic book she’d read, recalling a certain villain who went by Kilgrave.  
  
He had mind control abilities and was a skilled manipulator.    
  
The lights went stable with a listless gesture of the man’s wrist. Their surroundings had come to life around them as they passed by each room, as though rigged to a motion detector. That was probably it, yeah. They stopped at a large dining room. It appeared to be well taken care of, utterly immaculate. The large mahogany table took up most of the room, varnished to a brilliant shine. Above it was an iron candelabra chandelier with red and black-wicked candles that were practically burnt down to stumps.  
  
To their left was a tall china cabinet that had also been noticeably cared for, the wood properly waxed, and dusted. The ornate carvings would have been intriguing to study under different, less concerning circumstances. She watched as he opened one of the glass doors and removed a long stemmed wine glass. The bowl was quite sizable, leaving her to briefly wonder on whether or not he was going to drink something red and vintage – although, it was early morning.  
  
Wait, maybe this guy was an alcoholic, a very steady alcoholic?    
  
He used the dinner napkin that was folded neatly inside to clean around the rim of the glass, clearing it of any potential dust. She doubted there was any judging from the spotless state of his living area thus far. What she couldn’t comprehend, was him. Everything about his outward demeanor said that he was a calm and collected person, yet those eyes were downright feral – carnivorous, promising to savor her like she was a morsel soon to be devoured.  
  
It was fucking uncomfortable.     
  
“What Sanghyuk told you is true. I am no longer renting out the top apartment. I made the mistake of assuming that I’d be able to handle it.” The man looked even more pallid beneath the orange lighting in the room, dark wavy hair falling beneath his cheekbones. There was a bloodless hue to his skin, and was practically translucent. He released a breathy sigh when their eyes met, like it was something he found tragic. “I was convinced that all humans smelled the same, some better than others, but your scent has enticed me. Even now, I only want you.”  
  
_Warm cinnamon scones, melted butter, and blueberry preserve._  
  
He took a seat at the head of the table and placed the wine glass on top of the dinner plate in front of him. “Come closer.” Several times, she’d almost managed to stop herself along the way, unnerved that control was right at her fingertips, yet it wasn’t. It was an afterthought – far too late and kept just out of reach. “You may learn my name, since it’ll make cursing me easier, even if it’s only inside your head.”    
  
There was a long pause then, as the tension between them hung thick in the air like a tangible presence. It only served to fuel the frustration she felt during that moment, where they’d stared at one another, his onyx eyes reflecting the depth of her hostility. His beauty was improbable, something that she couldn’t comprehend or dared to quantify. And for as lovely as he appeared, he was also twice as dangerous for it. He wanted her, why? Hadn’t they just met?  
  
Wasn’t this all just so fucking strange?    
  
“It’s Taekwoon,” he said, slowly releasing her from his gaze to observe the silverware at the sides of his plate. Long, ring adorned fingers danced between the assortment of utensils, when he’d come to his decision, showing her compassion even if she did not know it. “Pick up the knife.”  
  
She’d started following the order, body trembling as it fought to resist, but to no avail. The cool silver was heavy in her hand. There was nothing that she could do of her own volition, to either use or drop it. She was holding onto the knife so tightly that her nails were digging into the skin of her palm, threatening to break through it.    
  
Taekwoon surveyed her inner struggle with a hint of elegance, one long leg folded over the other with his pale hands clasped firmly. He’d witnessed this same act of courage from humans countless times before. Not uncommon in a moment of desperation. “You’re fighting against the thrall, but know that it cannot be broken.” He practically hummed in amusement, eyes flashing the color of vermilion. “You’re about to understand it very clearly. I want you to bleed your fingers into the glass.”  
  
Her bouts of trepidation were easily crushed beneath the force he spoke of. She was ensnared by its magic, unable to stop her left palm from facing upwards with her body poised over the table, fingers hovering above the wine glass. She started trembling more viciously then, struggling to speak. It had been slightly less difficult than controlling her movements.    
  
The strain was evident on her face, her skin reddened by clear emotion, as fresh tears clung to her bottom lashes, ready to fall. “Please, don’t make me do this.” Her right hand was already pressing the sharp side of the blade to her pointer finger. She whispered harshly, “Please!” It was the outcome of a scream dying uselessly.      
  
Taekwoon raised a slender brow at her, somewhat impressed by her efforts. He’d felt her tugging at the invisible binds every step of the way, resisting him with such fervor that he’d nearly deemed it admirable. It wasn’t an easy task for most humans and it would be painful, he’d imagine. No one had been able to fight against his thrall in a very long time. The resistance was a skill that had to be practiced over a substantial amount of time. Among those who achieved as much, were of the slayer bloodline.  
  
Wonshik mentioned the possibility of there being a slayer, but he couldn’t so readily trust his brother’s word. He cried wolf so often in the dark, jumping at his own shadow. Not that Taekwoon blamed him after what happened, but he didn’t want any part of it.      
  
The moment the blade dragged across her skin, Taekwoon could already smell the blood. It was thick and heady, as it permeated the air and his senses. He closed his eyes briefly, listening to the crimson droplets, as they fell to the bottom of the glass. Tap, tap, tap. She could feel a pulse in her injured finger, releasing harsh, terrified sobs. Taekwoon practically nuzzled into the scent wafting into his space, when he felt something – something irritatingly warm against his skin. It grew hotter each passing second. Fuck, what was it?  
  
The source was coming from beside him, to where the girl was currently leaned over the table. He felt the heat like a sharp glare, the same heat he experienced whenever he walked out into the sun, even if its rays were not directly on him. It would still burn and itch, and antagonize. A rush of movement blurred by so fast that it had gone unseen. Taekwoon had raked his claws down the front of her shirt to see whatever the hell was causing him grief – the fabric torn into long strips. He was stunned when a cross pendant fell forward. It was made of sacred silver, purposefully designed to protect humans against his kind.  
  
“Could this be where your fight comes from?” He asked with mild astonishment, eyes alit with newfound offense. How did she acquire such a powerful trinket? Taekwoon pulled the chain free from around her neck, breaking the clasp in the process.  
  
_‘Happy birthday, my child,’ Sister Clara said, soft wrinkly hands presenting her with a box. ‘May this guide you through the darkest of times...’_  
  
It was the last gift, her only gift.      
  
She was still reeling from the throbbing pain in her fingers, the sheer lack of control – the fact that this man wasn’t a man at all. He wasn’t even human. She couldn’t even use her arms to cover herself up then, left horrifically exposed with her breasts pressed tightly against the material of her pushup bra. She’d worn it specifically to work, hoping to beat Jaehwan when they counted their tips at the end of their shift. Luckily, ‘Taekwoon’ hadn’t ripped through that as well, even though she honestly doubted that it was to grant her the dignity, or that it was done out of kindness. It was probably a miscalculation.  
  
“That’s...” She gasped out sharply, having sliced through another finger, watching it swell and bleed into the glass, “…not yours…”  
  
“No, it’s not mine. However, this really shouldn’t be yours, either.” He tossed the delicate silver across the table in a smooth motion. The sound of the pendant grazing over its polished surface was jarring. Taekwoon eyed the burnt flesh of his hand, watching the wounds heal from where the chain had touched his skin. “Where did you get it from?”  
  
She shook her head at the question, trying to resist the urge to answer him. There was no way that she would tell him about Sister Clara. How she’d been like a mother to her and that she was gone, and that it didn’t matter now. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about how it had felt, watching her only parent get buried just under three months ago.  
  
No, she would protect Sister Clara, even her memory.  
  
The girl started laughing herself into hysterics, tears flowing as she struggled to hide her truths from him, but the thrall was constantly present, fighting her every step of the way. Instead she chose to focus on the pain ringing throughout her body, chiming once more whenever she thought it’d eased some.  
  
“Answer me, before I have you cut out your own tongue.” Truthfully, Taekwoon was due for some entertainment. Not that the current situation wasn’t fun. It was the most violence he’d caused in weeks, which only made him want more of it, like returning to a past addiction. “If you’re not going to use it to speak, then I don’t see the point in having one, is all.”     
  
She’d managed a small, “Fuck you.”  
  
“Fuck _me_?” He closed his slender fingers around the stem of his glass, movements graceful. But he was just a creature feigning elegance. Taekwoon held her eyes, when he brought the rim of the glass to his nose, taking in the thick scent of her blood like he was a damn wine connoisseur. The look of dread on her face only spurred him on, when he parted his lips into a smirk. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” Then he was downing her blood in a long, generous sip.    
  
It was a one shot that dragged on for the duration of an eternity, second by fucked up second. She would never be able to scrub this moment clean from her mind, doomed to be haunted for the remainder of her jinxed existence, which looked pretty fucking bleak at the present.    
  
Fuck, she was going to die. This cannibal creature monster _thing_ was going to be the end. He was going to kill her.  
  
The red of his irises glowed anew the moment he tasted her on his tongue. She might have smelled like warm scones sitting in an open window, but she tasted like pure energy. And the blood wasn’t even straight from the vein. It touched oxygen, sat at the bottom of the glass. He shook from the tremors wracking throughout his being. It felt like the power from her blood could keep him satiated for days, maybe even weeks if he wasn’t being completely biased. Who knew that such a small amount of blood could have these strong effects? What would all of her blood do to him?    
  
The knife dropped abruptly from her hand, the loud clatter echoing cruelly. She had full control over her body again – how – why – or when did not matter, as she sprang into action, making a run for it. Taekwoon knew that he would have plenty of time, calmly watching as she rounded the table, and headed for the hallway. Although it would be futile, she shoved over one of the dining room chairs on her way out, trying to obstruct his path.  
  
_Mm, just a little while longer…_  
  
He felt invigorated by the surge of her blood, alive even, and in desperate need of another taste. Taekwoon finally stood up from his seat, reaching his hand out in the direction of the basement door. It slammed closed right in front of her face just as she thought she’d made it her shitty pair of runners. They were at the beginning all over again, standing at separate ends of the hall. This time he knew too well of what she was, an oblivious slayer. And beneath that, was a sad, lonely girl. If the past had gone differently, she would have been revered as a savior – one of the chosen. Yet there she was, reduced to nothing more than a lost lamb. Weak due to a lack of guidance and she was going to die for it.  
  
The vampire followed the spotted trail of blood across the floorboards, steps casually presaging. He made it to the chair, long legs stepping over it with ease. “Your watcher should have trained you, should have told what you are. The fact that you’re alive at all is miraculous. How you’ve gone so long without being found…” Taekwoon stopped himself, realizing that he was admiring her. “You’ve lost time, child. Now you will lose your life.”  
  
Nothing he said made any damn sense to her and now he was spewing prophetic nonsense, when she was already beyond terrified.      
  
Her hands twisted the doorknob from side to side, but it wouldn’t budge. Looking around frantically, there was a closet behind her. She tugged the door open in search of a weapon, only to find a collection of long coats, and an array of parasols. Just as she grabbed one, there was a strong grip on her forearm roughly pulling her backwards. Taekwoon slammed her so hard against the opposite surface that the parasol fell from her numb fingers.  
  
“Let me go, please, please…!” She cried out, as she attempted shoving him away with her other arm, but it was like trying to push against a stone wall. The rip he’d made in her shirt left her neck vulnerable. The scent of her fear was an intoxication that only seemed to amplify, flooding his senses. Taekwoon crowded her further with his larger frame, conquering her in height and strength – pinning both her wrists to the wall with one hand.  
  
More tears collected in lines that swerved to the point of her chin. He found himself growing mesmerized by how fragile such a powerful being could become. Taekwoon roamed his eyes over the rest of her then, stopping at the swell of her breasts to linger until his scrutiny was obvious. She shuddered visibly, skin burning hot with humiliation. His derisive laugh had her trembling in his hold, her soft swollen lips pleading with him.  
  
Taekwoon wanted her all to himself, to be greedy in the act of having her. He wanted it to last forever, to savor his victory.       
  
It was a monumental moment for him after all, killing a slayer.  
  
And then he could phone Wonshik ( _who’d been right, the crazy prick_ ) and put his brother’s fears and worries to rest, always the hero in the end.    
  
Taekwoon brought his hand up to grab the side of her face, running the soft pad of his thumb beneath her eyelid, wiping away new tears. But there was nothing warm or tender about his touch, instead it was cold and unfriendly. He released her from the fog of his thrall, so that her mind wouldn’t have to fight anymore. He wanted her to be able to focus on what he was about to do to her. She needed to understand that she was his now, his victim, his kill. The defeat lied within her bones.  
  
“So long as you exist in this world, you’ll always be hunted, and you will always lose…” Taekwoon murmured with a sense of finality, before leaning down to nuzzle against the side of her throat. ‘He has fangs,’ she realized, numbly. Alas, she knew what he was, resigning herself to her fate, which was death by fabled monster – classic vampire. He stretched his jaw over her skin, elongated canines sinking in deeply. She only cried out once from the initial shock, before the sounds faded into whimpers. Taekwoon’s grip on her wrists fell to the small of her back, both arms wound tightly around her own, keeping her body pressed flush against him.  
  
Her feet weren’t even touching the ground anymore. It was fine, really. Her small fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, clinging to him. White mums, the rusted squeaks of an outdated casket trolley. How long did it take for her to remove the dirt from under her fingernails? When did she get up from the grass to go home? There was no one else. Not Jaehwan, not her two employers. She had no friends and no family left to speak of.     
  
_‘I can rest now.’_ She closed her eyes, too tired to keep them open.     
  
Taekwoon adjusted his bite with a low growl, losing himself to the lust of his feeding, desperate almost, and dizzied by the rush he felt then. He’d tasted slayer blood before, but nothing had ever been quite this addicting, or satisfying. He pulled back far enough to glare down at her, eyes dark and accusatory. What was she? He ran his tongue over the blood on his lips, chest heaving from exertion, although he didn’t need to catch his breath. He watched as her head fell back weakly, arms hanging limp at her sides.  
  
Why was she different?  
  
Perhaps there was still point in keeping her alive, even if it were just a small justification. He had yet to find out the origin of the necklace, although he doubted that she was aware of her own ancestry. No, she was completely clueless. The most important objective should be finding out how many slayers there were, see if they were planning to make a move against his kind. Surely, all the answers he needed would be within her blood, waiting to provide him with hints. He would eventually have to tell the elders in order to avoid future punishment. Would they want her alive? The things they would do to her – what he wanted to do to her.    
  
He lowered his lips, determined to have one last taste.    
  
Taekwoon paused before he could sink his fangs in, sensing an odd shift in the air, a power concocted from a crude mixture of earth elements, and blood. His head shot in the direction of the basement door, watching as it was blown clean off its hinges. Varicolored fire swept through the hallway, swallowing it up – the explosion carried in a strong gust of wind, sending him and the girl to the ground hard. They were separated by a short distance, but the vampire couldn’t move to get to her. Something was keeping him confined.  
  
Once the plume of smoke cleared, a pair of heavy boots stepped in from outside, debris crunching beneath the pressure. Def Leppard’s, ‘Love Bites’, was blaring through a pair of stereo headphones that was attached to a walkman. Taekwoon was going to straight up murder this sorry bastard for interrupting his feeding to show him magic tricks. The stranger was decked out in archaic hunting attire consisting of fitted black leather, and a signature trench coat.  
  
“Hello there, asshole,” The human said with a grin, revealing a set of dimples that stood out prominently against his near cherubic face. He waved purposefully, showing Taekwoon the stone in his hand. It glowed ominously, being the source that kept the vampire pinned down, but it wouldn’t last long, only for a few more minutes. Taekwoon was hoping that the human would get the math wrong and stick around long enough to die. “I believe you have my slayer.” The watcher lowered his sunglasses to search over the room, finding the girl’s unconscious body just a few feet away from Taekwoon.  
  
“Come on, no, no…” The watcher whispered, the ends of his heavy jacket fanning out when he crouched down beside her. He winced when he inspected the deep wounds on her neck, blood still gushing heavily from the bites, but there was still a pulse, however faint. The bleeding would have to be stopped, but they couldn’t stay. Not here. He lifted her left hand, seeing that a couple of her fingertips were sliced through. He cursed low, “You undead fuck.”     
  
“You’re her watcher?” Taekwoon asked, not bothering to use thrall. The human was clever enough to filter the vampire’s voice through his music, and he’d made a point of wearing glasses to better help avoid eye contact. He knew all the right ways. The vampire snorted, “Hell of a job you’ve done so far. A moment longer and she would have died. Still might.”  
  
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but could you speak up using your big girl voice? I’m having a hard time hearing you.” The human said, voice practically oozing with sarcasm. He was so bitter that the smell of it was looming over Taekwoon like a piece of candy dangling at the end of a string. “And for the record,” He stared down at Taekwoon from beneath the baron hat he was wearing, broad shoulders shaking with anger, “You have no idea what I’m capable of, none. But by all means, go ahead and fucking test me. I dare you.”  
  
Taekwoon’s lashes fluttered in a way that was decidedly pretty against his high cheekbones, “You could kill me right now, watcher. It would only take but a moment.”  
  
“You want it bad, don’t you?” he asked, shaking his head as though to clear it free of temptation. The thought had crossed his mind, to kill one of the undying, a vampire as renowned as Taekwoon. “However, it’s not my job.”     
  
A breathy laugh came from the vampire, soft and unsettling. “Still following the old ways, then? That’s too bad.”  
  
The human gathered the slayer carefully into his arms and stood to his feet. “You should be afraid, ‘cause it’s only a matter of time before she awakens her potential, and sends your ass to hell. Wait, what is it you guys do again when you die? You puff. You puff like fucking pansies. You’re a dust bucket made up of magic.”  
  
“As soon as your little rock stops working, I’m going to tear you into pieces, limb by limb,” Taekwoon said, as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, rummaging through the blood in his system. Tracking through the girl’s memories, until he’d come across the watcher’s handsome face. He’d given her a job at that loathsome coffee place around the corner. Taekwoon’s glacial stare resumed then, “Hongbin.” The mention of the watcher’s name made him freeze on his way out the door, the color visibly draining from his face. “I keep my promises.”         
  
Hongbin wasted no more time in removing the slayer from Taekwoon’s preverbal clutches, stepping beneath the safety of offensive sunlight. The vampire knew his name, would know where he worked. The slayer’s blood placed everyone she’d come into contact with in danger. The firm hold he had on the side of her neck was slipping due to the goddamn mess seeping between his fingers. He had to get her to the truck.               
  
During the short moments where Taekwoon was able to observe, he’d noticed the insignia carved into the leather of Hongbin’s coat. Back in the day, each faction of watchers was identified by animal or reptile. It signified their standing within the society. The crest that the human wore was that of the wolves, a line of respected watchers that had been isolated for being unorthodox. It was probably they, who had been responsible for saving the slayer bloodline.  
  
It was difficult for Taekwoon to see Hongbin as anything other than fuckable. The leather pants he’d worn were so tight it was like they had been painted on. Taekwoon was admittedly partial to it, as tacky as it would be. Taking up the mantle as a watcher after so long had mostly explained the human’s poor ensemble, rolling up like he was Van fucking Helsing.  
  
_Fuck…_  
  
Things had progressed beyond what Taekwoon was comfortable with. A powerless slayer was one thing, but now she was in capable hands – depending. The young watcher was already different from those he’d killed in the past, cocky and so sure of himself. He wanted to squash that belief and tame the pretty human just like he’d tamed Sanghyuk.  
  
Play, fight, and fuck.  
  
However, approaching the slayer would have to go differently, especially if he wanted to kill her, he would have to know her. All of her insides, all of her outsides. Damaging her would be a project, but killing her would be a delight. Taekwoon lied there with his arms spread out like wings in the debris and returned to the dark corners of the slayer’s memories, violating her as profoundly as one might while having their diary read aloud by another.  
  
The smell of white mums tickled his nose and he smiled.  
  
_Show me where it hurts.  
_

* * *

**TBC _  
_**


	4. Not Rupert Giles Part I

**A/N:** Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. A lot of things happened, but I've had this written out and today I'd finally read it over. I'm a little anxious about this chapter and I sincerely hope that you all enjoy it. Remember to leave feedback!   
**+** _New tags added  
  
10/21/17 - Big thanks to [bunneh_teef_70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunneh_teef_70/profile) for looking over my writing & giving me great suggestions.  
_

* * *

  **Slay Girl, Slay  
**

* * *

_'We could set the world on fire using only our minds.  
Pyrokinesis, we hurt each other without trying.'_ – Clairity  
  
Chapter Four: _Not Rupert Giles Part I_  
  
Hongbin killed the engine when they were a block away from her home. More like Taekwoon’s home at this point, since he sure as shit wasn’t gonna allow her to go back there. He’d replace everything himself if need be.    
  
She was lying in the backseat, frightfully pale and unconscious. Her condition was bound to get worse. Slayers could, in theory, heal faster than most humans, but not as fast as the undying. The books hadn’t prepped him for this type of shit nor had his late father, nor his father’s father. What to do when your slayer is on the brink of death 101. He could treat it like an animal attack and rush her straight to the nearest hospital. That was what impulse told him. Unfortunately, nothing would prevent the vampire from strolling onto public grounds and finishing the job. He wouldn’t compromise her or any of the civilians.    
  
Hongbin removed a small vial from the inner pocket of his jacket and crawled into the backseat of his truck. It was a hand-me-down from his father. His father, who insisted upon haunting the empty, clear halls of his otherwise steady mind – bringing him to the very first words he’d been told when he’d been handed a satchel filled with the very same vials:        
  
_‘Only use this when you have to, son. You understand?’ His father’s hand was on the nape of his neck, voice rough like gravel. ‘Emergencies only.’_  
  
There was an incessant buzzing sound coming from the watcher’s back-pocket. His hand-phone kept going off, vibrating, and dinging – all signs that Hakyeon was growing more and more impatient, because who the fuck else was this persistent? He pulled the cork free from the vial with his teeth, spitting it to floor of his truck. Her body was trembling with fever, beads of sweat forming above her brow, skin like melting ice and clammy. It made things more difficult to concentrate on, unless he was to answer his damn phone.    
  
Hongbin’s voice was sharp when he’d finally snapped. “Yes, Hakyeon?” It was a first when dealing with, well, any of his hyungs. He wasn’t really known for losing his temper, only when he was seeing to real work, studying up on the undead, or fighting with his Keurig machine, the fucker.     
  
Last night he’d happened to see Sanghyuk entering BeanCha. The man wasn’t an undying per se, but he wasn’t normal, either. As far as Hongbin could tell, Sanghyuk was human, living off the benefits of vampire blood. Never aging and never becoming ill with nothing to fear. Why was he being kept alive? For what screwed up purpose would Taekwoon do such a thing? Throughout history, it had been those two, but the information kept by the watchers was limited, especially after the fall.  
  
It was purely speculative at this point. Lovers, maybe? Taekwoon’s human pet with prized blood?  
  
A shiver ran down the back of Hongbin’s spine, reminded of the vampire’s unsettling gaze, like a feline ready to pounce, always so eager to devour. Even with the sunglasses on, Taekwoon’s eyes had practically seared right through his very being. He’d made him a promise and the watcher didn’t doubt that he was good for it, which meant Hongbin’s days were numbered – it was the cruel fate of all watchers.           
  
Hakyeon was casual. “Did you forget that you work the morning shifts?”  
  
He hadn’t forgotten. How on earth could he possibly forget when he managed the café every single morning and all afternoon? But duty called – the real shit, the actual important, this is the true meaning of your life sort of business. It was something that Hakyeon would never understand, because his true calling consisted of coffee beans and candles – which was fine, since not all humans lived under the same circumstances as Hongbin did.    
  
Not all humans would be able to survive the bullshit that was bestowed upon him. His way of living was taught to him at a very young age. If he had the chance to go back and rewrite his future, he’d torch that fucker, burn it – _well, now, maybe not_ , he did just blow up a door, and pin down an ancient evil with his pet rock.  
  
_Ah, good ol’ Sylvester._  
  
Besides, Hongbin was outside the bubble, no longer safe or unknowing of the world’s horrible truths. He wasn’t even the slightest bit normal, having been raised on actual ghost stories. The kind of shit that would make Stephen King piss in his pants and Hongbin’s father had been considered soft at the time, so imagine what one of his darker days had been like. Those wretched days, where the strong smell of cheap rum would twist Hongbin’s stomach into tight knots, until he was bent over a toilet dry heaving.  
  
The price of having a strong intellect was not being able to properly fool yourself. Hongbin would never be able forget his father’s ups and downs. For his father was all about procedure, repetition. Whenever Hongbin stepped foot inside a home or a building, he was already taking note of every viable exit. He couldn’t afford to trust first and take the risk of paying for it later.  
  
He was always careful. Always. Ten steps ahead, as discreet and lethal as a loaded gun.     
  
When he’d spotted Han Sanghyuk, Hongbin kept watch for the remainder of the evening, until the sun had come out, and put the moon to bed. He hadn’t slept a goddamned wink, but he wasn’t tired – he was never actually tired. He’d been fueled with the horribly rapid non-stop thinking, thanking the lord-Jesus-fuck for his gut instinct. Especially since when he’d pulled up outside her apartment, the very same one she’d previously bragged to him about, he’d discovered that it was a target location, Taekwoon’s nest.  
  
Who would have fucking thought?     
  
Hakyeon huffed out a tired sigh. “Hongbin!”  
  
“Give me an hour.” He hung up the call – which was something you should never do to Cha Hakyeon, to hunch over the slayer. He carefully tilted her head back and pressed the vial to her parted lips, making sure that an ample amount of blood went down smoothly. For as much as Hongbin hated vampires, he appreciated the healing properties that lied within their DNA. It provided immediate care, better than any practiced hand, or medicine.  
  
Once Hongbin confirmed that her wounds were beginning to close, he covered her exposed skin with his jacket, and moved to the front seat. The watcher leaned back against the leather and paused with the key in the ignition, thinking that he should have felt protected with the sun high above them, casting its oversized spotlight. However, he didn’t feel safe. Not even with a slayer in the backseat. If Taekwoon really wanted to, he could grab an umbrella right now, and follow after her scent to end the charade.   
  
Hongbin eyed the rearview mirror with a flicker of hesitation, a part of him half expecting to see Taekwoon there, but instead he was greeted by an empty street. The tension in his shoulders eased some, as the relief washed over him. “That’s right, asshole.”  
  
The truck roared to life and he peeled away, heading for his home.    
  
It was unfortunate, but things were going to change, for the both of them.  
  
The safe foundation she’d built for herself would be compromised by the burden of _knowing_ – knowing that the world had an ugly face beneath its seemingly well concealed mask. Logic revealed itself to be a coy mistress, a concept that only sometimes fucked around with reality. The truth about their reality expelled reason, which was something that she would find out about the hard way.  
  
Hongbin wasn’t really one for anything upscale, as far as homes had gone. He just needed a place to exist, not to even actively live in, since no one ever comes around. No friends or family. He’d bought himself a three bedroom house, one that he could own, and rent out in the future if he remembered to be so clever. The neighbor’s were gone to work, so when he carried an unconscious female over the threshold, fresh blood still dripping from her fingertips, no one had been around to question it.  
  
A majority of her body was covered in his large coat anyway.  
  
He closed the door with the bottom of his boot and brought her to the couch. It was a ratty old thing, completely used up, and broken in over what must’ve been a decade. The addition of her blood would only give it some charm. He went to his bathroom closet to grab a few of the essentials, the first-aid kit, some towels, water, and a new shirt. Hakyeon would probably lose his shit if he showed up even a second late. If Hongbin knew his friend, he was probably eying the clock, and steadily counting down.  
  
The girl’s wounds turned to bruises within minutes, most of them properly healed due to the ever handy vampire fix. She would be able to vividly remember what had happened. There was no doubt about it, yet he felt the need to cover up what he had used on her, uncertain of how she’d take having centuries old vampire blood in her system. Instead, he placed bandages wherever she’d been injured. He started at the tips of her fingers to the side of her neck, after he’d thoroughly cleaned the area. The ghost pain would probably work in his favor, since the first thing she’d feel would be the trauma, the fear. And then lastly, after too much thinking, the imagined infliction would come.            
  
He scrubbed her skin like she was his own. In a way she was, she was his slayer – his chosen. Hongbin had been prepared his entire life for this honor and yet, they were utterly alone. No one was there to watch them fail or succeed. But the masses were starving, the evil was growing. When a human is bitten by a full-blooded vampire, made to rise without a sufficient amount of blood, they become mindless with hunger, mere half-lings. No more than a vampire zombie, which was pathetic.     
  
It was like watching reruns of undead bastards gone wild and it was on every channel.        
  
And they needed to die and fast, before things got worse. Somewhere, the head of the vampire hierarchy grew a big head. The council had become more lenient, less concerned with keeping their kind hidden, as though there were no laws anymore. The situation had to be handled and a hell of a lot quicker than what the government’s local cleanup crew had managed. There had to be an ending, before humans became the minority.  
  
He made work of her tattered, blood soaked top. Her bra was destroyed in a different manner. Instead of removing it, he’d scrubbed it as best as he could, trying his damnedest to get the stain out. She’d jostled a few times in the process, however she did not wake. Then he pulled one of his clean shirts down over her chest, carefully helping her arms through the short sleeves. The fact that she wasn’t so readily stirring was probably the outcome of working a twelve hour shift without pause.  
  
He doubted she slept right to begin with. Slayers were haunted, just as watchers were, but worse. Their incarnations present, their cursed past running throughout their veins, living inside their bloodstream as guides, reminders, and lessons.      
  
Hongbin grabbed a clean set of clothes for himself and closed the bathroom door, but didn’t lock it. He needed to wash himself free of the bullshit. Of all the threats and the blood – the worry, because Hongbin was certain that the vampire would come for what he’d lost this morning. Now was the opportune moment for him, anyway, because the slayer wasn’t ready.  
  
She wasn’t complete yet. She hadn’t killed her first vampire, there was no mark. There was no telling what her power would be. A slayer’s instinct served as a pull towards their fate, a fixed destiny. There were certain routines, feelings, and homeliness that had come from graveyards. She would have felt it, which explained why she chose to live where she did, whereas others would have given it a hard ‘no’. Holy ground was sacred, however fanged assholes tended to rise up from the soil – human when they’re buried, monsters when they arose. She should have gone out and made her first kill there, but something had kept her protected in the meantime. That or she’d fought against it, but eventually instinct would win.  
  
It always did.  
  
Once he’d felt clean enough, black shower sponge clenched tightly to his chest, he turned off the water. He had no choice but to leave her behind for the day. It wasn’t like she could go into work with him and he knew damn well that Hakyeon would refuse working a double, not that he should have to, but this was why Hongbin kept bringing up manager training. The elder declined it with an unmasked look of disgust. His partner was somewhat shameless that way, doing everything in his power to save a buck.  
  
Hongbin pulled on his winter clothes, dark wash jeans, boots, and an itchy sweater. There was a yellow sticky pad and pen on his kitchen table. It would be wise to leave a note for her.  
 

 

 

> _Fridge is under stocked, but feel free to order in.  
>  I left a twenty on the table.  
>  Order before it gets dark out preferably.    
>  Don’t remove your bandages. I put a strong salve on your cuts.  
>  Try not to leave…_

  
Hongbin paused for a moment. That could probably be rephrased.

 

 

> _It’s not safe to go outside.  
>  Refrain from leaving, until I get back so that I can explain.    
>  I know things about Taekwoon and he will not stop, until you’re dead._

  
The watcher shrugged into his coat, the average, tragically mundane looking one. He really didn’t want to leave her alone. What if she woke up terrified, not recognizing her surroundings, and tried to flee without reading his notes?    
  
He dropped the next small, yellow rectangle shaped paper on the coffee table beside her.

 

 

> _Call the shop if you need anything._

  
Hongbin was neither soft nor weak. His father had squashed that threat from him before it could take form, stopping it dead in its tracks. He knew that sometimes peopled died, good, brave people. When he was brought to his grandparent’s temple he’d known, even as a child he could sense that something was really wrong. It wasn’t as though anyone had given themselves away by crying, because a family full of watchers wouldn’t shed any tears. Ever repressed, holding in their anguish. Living without living, always destined to die.  
  
The watcher’s compassion, the last hint of his mother’s teachings was removed like a surgical procedure that could never be undone. He’d found out about his mother’s death by observation, no more than seven years of age, he’d been able to read the room.  
  
It didn’t help that Hongbin’s father was a shit liar and he’d hated him for it.  
  
_Hated._  
  
He’d begged in his mind for his father to lie to him, even if it were just a little bit better than the last time – to make an effort, make it good enough so that Hongbin could pretend for awhile. Lie to him like he cared to save him, but in the end, the words hadn’t come, no, not even while his father was on his deathbed – he’d never told his own son that his mother had died, how or why.   
  
The last sticky note was left on the door at what would be her eyelevel. Hongbin stared at the words that he’d written down for a long moment. Intuition was part luck, even if you didn’t want its blessing. It was dangerous to be right sometimes and he’d hoped to god that he wouldn’t be in this case, but his gut said that Taekwoon’s playtime was going to start soon. And he hoped that his slayer was smart enough not to pick up the ball, no matter how tempting.  
  
He got into his truck and headed straight to the café, where Hakyeon was waiting to bury him alive. It had taken him exactly one hour to finish things at home. Hongbin dodged the pointed glare from his partner, and opted to greet the morning shift employees with a friendly smile. Hakyeon was on his heels, following him all the way into the back office.  
  
As soon as the door shut, he started in on the watcher.  
  
“There’s late and then there’s really late, Hongbin.”  
  
Hongbin was all calm, as he unzipped his coat, and placed it evenly on the coat hanger. “I’m sorry, but it was a family emergency.”  
  
That’d stopped Hakyeon to some degree, simmered the flare of his temper. “Well, I didn’t know that. Uhm, are they –”  
  
Hongbin was quick to add, “It was a personal matter.”    
  
Taekwoon’s eyes flashed once more at the front of his mind. The blood on his hands when he’d checked the girl’s vitals. He rubbed his fingers together slowly, swearing that he could still feel the warm silky texture of it.  
  
Hakyeon’s skin flushed hotly, the irritation on his face clearly evident. It was like he’d felt embarrassed to even be excluded. Or maybe it was the lines Hongbin tossed out, forcibly silencing his hyung’s curiosity. Words like ‘family emergency’ and ‘personal’ were key methods used to deflect standard questioning. Even for as long as the two had known one another, Hongbin knew that the other man wouldn’t push it. Family talk was strictly off limits.     
  
“It’s never happened before and hopefully it won’t happen again.” But it would happen and a lot more frequently. Whether he liked it or not, Hongbin was a target, and so was Hakyeon. Anyone who had come into contact with the slayer was marked, their existence having been played out for Taekwoon like a movie. _Ah, shit._ She changed over to the nightshift prior to this bullshit going down in order to accommodate her school schedule. It wasn’t like she’d so easily be willing to go back to working mornings.  
  
It was possible that they would end up arguing. Highly. Possible.  
  
“Whatever it is you’re going through, I’m here. You know that, right?” Hakyeon met Hongbin’s eyes for a moment, just long enough to make sure that there wasn’t a glimmer of doubt. Reading Hongbin could be a task at times.  
  
“Of course, I know that.” Hongbin nodded, before turning away to look over the list of nightshift employees. The slayer wouldn’t be making it tonight and he’d have to find a replacement, lessening Hakyeon’s load.  
  
He informed the other man of what he was doing and why, watching the elder’s brow raise in confusion. “And how do you know she won’t be able to make it?”  
  
“She sent me a text. I think she thought I was you, old habit or something...” Hongbin wasn’t good at lying either, ironically, but at least he was better at it than his father.  
  
Hakyeon hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe I was too hard on her last night.”  
  
_‘She’d experienced worse this morning,’_ Hongbin wanted to say, but swallowed it down. “Oh? What happened?”  
  
“She messed up a couple orders, which isn’t like her. I mean, she’s clumsy and can’t carry things half the time, but the kid can make a latte.”  
  
“And did Jaehwan do damage control?”  
  
“He wasn’t really being himself, either. There was this one guy who’d come in, wearing a blue suit with Popsicle red hair – I wished you’d seen it. It was like, thirty degrees out, and he’s got nothing on underneath his jacket, but a six pack.” Hakyeon shook his head. “I was shivering just looking at him, but after a few words with Jae, our happy barista was no more.”  
  
Hongbin sighed, “I wonder what happened.” That sounded suspicious as fuck, but there was little he could do about it now.  
  
Hakyeon crossed his arms. “Well, with her, I think it was her talk with Sanghyuk.”  
  
_Fuck._  
_  
_ The watcher’s fists curled beneath the desk. Perhaps he’d scan through the security footage from last night. Maybe he could get a better idea of why Sanghyuk was at the café – scope out what the hell happened with Jaehwan while he was at it.     
  
Hakyeon would be useful in this case, so he played along. “Han Sanghyuk? What could he have wanted? A coffee? He never comes here.”  
  
“She didn’t say what he wanted from her, but he was here, because of me.”  
  
_Christ._  
  
“I mean no disrespect, hyung, but you paid his office your half, right? I told you about the tax increase, why, and what it was for…” Because he knew that Hakyeon would be stingy. He’d try and fight it. He’d take it personally and act i-fucking-rrational.  
  
Hakyeon was suddenly blurting it all out – still somewhat shaken by last night’s events. “I slapped him.” He had to tell someone, which had been the underlining reason for his impatience this morning. He’d been dying to say it aloud, as though he were confessing to a crime. “I slapped Sanghyuk across the face.”  
  
“I’m sorry, but you…slapped…Sanghyuk? He’s on the town council. He holds our café in the palm of his hand. I’m talking fucking Adele, Rolling in the Deep type of shit. He has the power to shut us down on whim. You’re telling me that same guy now has a reason to destroy us?”  
  
Hakyeon warned, “First of all, watch your language.” Hongbin’s manners were gone out the window, because there was now way too much shit on his plate, what with dealing with a pissed off vampire, who had promised to kill him. Now that vampire’s pet had more than enough justification to get rid of their business, if he chose to be petty.  
  
Well, if it wasn’t a beautiful day in the goddamn neighborhood.    
  
“Second of all,” Hakyeon continued. “I know it’s bad, okay, but I’m going to his office later. I’ll give him my payment and apologize to him personally.”  
  
Sound idea, but Hongbin honestly didn’t know what the vampire juiced human was capable of. Sanghyuk was merely guilty by association and nothing more. “You could just write him a letter along with mailing in your payment? It might be difficult for a man with so much pride to see someone who had just insulted him. I mean, you slapped him. It must have been a big shock for him. Humiliating, even. Y’know, I think you can even pay online these days. No need to see him at all, or ever again.”  
  
Hakyeon was quiet, as though that piece of advice was not what he’d wanted to hear, “I’ll think about it some more.”  
  
But Hongbin already knew that Hakyeon had made up his mind on this, dead set on following after Sanghyuk, for one does not simply slap just anybody, lingering on it – over thinking it, wanting to apologize for it.  
  
Hongbin grimaced.  
  
_Fuck.  
  
_

* * *

Jaehwan climbed the steps to his apartment, pausing every so often to sneeze, or get thrown into a coughing fit that seemed to last forever. It was freezing outside and his car wouldn’t start for ten minutes, leaving him in the frigid cold for even longer. He’d been smart enough to drive straight to the local pharmacy, taking the cough medicine right at the counter, before heading home. His body sweated and shivered alternately, as it fought to regulate itself, but it wasn’t working.  
  
  
He doubted that a cold suppressant wasn’t going to deal with his fever and once he entered his apartment, he was going straight to the bathroom for a cold shower. No matter how sick he felt, he had to be better by tonight for his show

   
He couldn’t afford to be inconsistent, and the only goal now was to gather more loyal viewers. Every Wednesday was known as ‘Ken Day’ and at 10 p.m. tonight, Jaehwan would go live in front of his audience. Ken’s fans were a bit more aggressive, less cute than what Jaehwan dealt with at the café. They were filthier, as was Ken.  
  
Jaehwan enjoyed stepping out of the cutie persona every once in awhile. No one had to know it was him, although the thrill that someone might, was always an exciting thought.  
  
He made it inside the apartment, foregoing house slippers as he dragged his feet across the floorboards, and deposited himself inside the shower. When he emerged, it was in a loose towel. He stepped inside the kitchen for a meal. He knew that he was hungry, even if he didn’t have an appetite. His stomach kept trying to communicate in the form of rumbles.  
  
He couldn’t imagine eating a spicy jjiggae at the moment and most of his pantry was filled with sweets and candies. He had enough Choco Homerun Balls to last him the whole year. No – no tuna, but he’d settle for some rice and seaweed paper. Jaehwan groaned with each movement, the fever aching within his bones.  
  
Jaehwan longed to go home, so that he could rest within the comfort of his childhood bedroom. Even if his mother wasn’t particularly good at cooking, his father was a pro. He’d make Jaehwan his vegetable porridge, the serving always made a tad bit too sweet on purpose. But running home would discredit his attempts of living separately, or bravely.  
  
He scooped his rice onto a sheet of seaweed, the steam practically melting it all together, and took a large bite. Eating well with no one there to bear witness almost had him feeling sorry for himself. Beside him was a collection of various unfinished artworks, doodles for the Valentine’s Day event that Hakyeon was already planning for.  
  
Dumping his dish into the sink, he went to his room, changing into a pair of sweats and a large shirt. Most of Jaehwan’s clothes were of the expensive sort, belonging to name brand lines. It made him feel as though he were of the same value. Most of the time, his impulses had him buying first, and trying the clothes on once they arrived. He didn’t even return the items that hadn’t fit. Seven credit cards later, all with maxed out extensions, yet his credit score was remarkably perfect. Ken made sure that it stayed in order.  
  
Jaehwan set his alarm and crawled beneath the sheets, his body trembling, and sleep clouding his thoughts. The last thing he envisioned was an attractive pair of winter blue eyes. The strange guy from the café, Jaehwan’s biggest fan, ‘Wonshik’ he’d said. How he had been pulled in close, the short few seconds of his stilted breathing, and the solid pounding of his heartbeat.  
  
His lashes fell closed, while he sleepily replayed their meeting over and over again, and dreamt of red, blue, and black.  
  
_9:30 p.m._  
  
Jaehwan was in front of his bathroom mirror, smudging black liner beneath his bottom lashes, rubbing it into the peach colored shadow he was wearing. There was a set of honey colored lenses that he enjoyed using as an enhancer. He’d put them in prior to applying his makeup. The fact that he never showed his full face on camera made him feel more determined to make his eyes standout.  
  
Luckily, his fever had gone down some, having awoken in a puddle of sweat.  
  
He felt a lot better, although he knew that it was only temporary. Jaehwan accessorized tactfully, choosing a thin choker and large silver rings to wear on his left fingers. He didn’t like to appear delicate, even if it were partly true. There were plenty of things about the barista that made him feel childish, but not in a small way. He was a brat, one of the lost boys belonging to Peter Pan, and that was only if he wasn’t Peter Pan to begin with. Either way.   
  
The clothing options usually changed depending on the holiday. Otherwise it was a pair of boxers and a zip-up hoody. He wanted something more tonight, something only a skosh different – he’d felt inspired. There was body glitter left over from last Halloween, where Hakyeon had encouraged him to be a fairy prince. He started rubbing the oil along the lines of his collarbone, spreading it evenly along his neck, and then further down his chest.  
  
He was careful of his nipples, since they were newly pierced – well, not so newly, at least three months old, but they were still incredibly sensitive to touch. He’d avoided piercing his ears his whole life, but he’d considered the benefit for his viewers if he added more silver to his display. The thin, straight barbells stood out nicely against his skin and he enjoyed how they looked overall. The initial reaction from his fans was highly addictive, taking in all of their dirty promises, too hyperaware of their intent.  
  
Ken would be sure to feed them well tonight.  
  
He covered up his blonde hair with a pierced cap. Jaehwan even had an assortment of flu masks, but he went with the plain black one. He was in a pair of Supreme fitted boxer briefs, accentuating the muscles of his thighs and the curve of his ass. Leaving very little to the imagination, if only just the most frustrating bits of detail, like the rest of his face. Jaehwan decided on a hooded jacket and zipped it up halfway, leaving the front of it open to reveal a small, teasing expanse of pale skin.  
  
Five minutes before the show started, Jaehwan allowed his fans to come into the room early. He enjoyed reading their conversation. There was no music, ever. Jaehwan didn’t buy his expensive microphone just to end up getting muffled by obnoxious techno beats. No – he wanted them to hear every exhale, whimper, and moan. Every wet stroke of his fist, the audible thrusts inside his body – that was what his customer's paid him for, to watch and listen to him come undone.

 

 

> **happyK:** Happy Kenday!   
>  **PlayswBalls90** : happy kenday…  
>  **happyK:** I’ve been waiting all week for this.  
>  **GradeAnus** : its only wednesday  
>  **happy K:** but it’s been a week, asshole.  
>  **69BIGMAN69:** luuullll  

Jaehwan laughed, as he got comfortable in his usual spot on the floor, back pressed against his bed frame. His laptop was resting on a soban tray at the perfect height. The built-in camera focused in on him and he slowly moved his shoulders, watching as his skin sparkled from where he’d placed the oil.  
  
“Perfect,” he said, as he pressed the button to go live.  
  
His legs were spread out with his hands behind him on the floor. Jaehwan always waited for them to notice him first. It never took too long.

 

 

> **  
> ydgfswg:** well, holyshit. ken.  
>  **happyK:** Ken, we’ve been waiting for you.  
>  **GradeAnus:** you look so fucking hot. what.

  
He dropped his head to the side, voice rough due to his cough, but was still just as playful. “Oh, I bet you were. Did you miss me?”  
  
Their responses were unanimous. Of course they missed Ken.  
  
“What should we do first?” Jaehwan looked directly into the lens, eyes dark despite the contacts that were meant to brighten them. “I haven’t prepped myself yet, because I wanted you to watch me.”

 

 

> **PlayswBalls90:** wtf. he is sparkly.  
>  **happyK:** I love it. He’s so beautiful.  
>  **69BIGMAN69** : you know we wanna watch you.  
>  **happyK:** C’mon, baby. Show us.

“I’m a little shy.” But his viewers knew that the statement was far from the truth. Jaehwan was shameless, having proved it time and time again. He laughed, seeing the comments go back and forth. A majority of them were calling him out on his bullshit. “I can’t lie to you, can I?” He started off slowly, teasing himself through the cotton material of his boxers. “But I’ve behaved myself all day. Let me be bad, just a little bit...”  
  
Although it was probably due to the low grade fever, he felt sensitive to everything, warm touches – the cool air in the room. Two fingers rubbed over the sides of his cock, making a noticeable outline that the camera caught easily. “Ah…” Another laugh, this time shakier, “Fuck. It feels…h-ha...I’m not going to tell you. You don’t deserve to know.”   
  
He brought his other hand to the zipper on his jacket, pulling it down so that the fabric fell loose around his shoulders. Jaehwan was usually impatient, but tonight he’d felt it even more so, the gradual warmth pooling in his lower stomach. He wet the soft pad of his thumb, tongue running flat against it, before he swiped it across his nipple to make it erect. It wasn’t much of a task with the piercings. The circumstances helped, loving the fact that he was being watched.

 

 

> **ydgfswg:** but we do know, sweetheart.

“No, you don’t,” Jaehwan gasped, squeezing the head of his cock, hips wriggling against his own hand. “I bet you wished you did though. Do you think I’d let you?” He trapped his nipple between his thumb and index finger, before tugging sharply. “Let you know how good this fucking feels?” The pain shot straight into his cock and he moaned softly at the sensation. Beneath his mask, he was biting at his lips, until they burned and swelled.  
  
He thought of the guy from the café, this ‘Wonshik’. Jaehwan thought about how the red of his lips stood out against the darker tone of his skin. He was beautiful, but he also seemed sickly, pale even while he was tan. Maybe it was makeup? The crevices of his eyes were dark and shiny, which had drawn Jaehwan’s attention to the odd pigment of his irises. It was like staring into a winter storm and he wanted to get lost in the cold.  
  
Forget everything.  
  
Jaehwan trembled, as he imagined Wonshik being one of his viewers, his biggest fan, and all. Perhaps that was what he’d meant, why he’d felt comfortable with grabbing Jaehwan so casually. The thought of it made his cock pulse. He was almost completely hard from the idea, eager to please, and to give more. He wanted the redhead there in his room, using that same force from the other night to tear him apart, leaving him irreparable.

 

 

> **happyK** : Baby, slow down, don’t rush it…  
>  **69BIGMAN69** : YOU ARE SO FCKN HOT  
>  _PlayswBalls90 tipped $50._  
>  **PlayswBalls90:** i wanna – no, i need to see you. show us your pretty cock.   
>  _GradeAnus tipped $75._

  
Jaehwan swallowed thickly, the sound of the tip jar notification going off. He read over their requests with heavy eyes, sliding his fingers beneath the leg of his boxers, and pulling the one side over his cock. He was rock hard by then. The tip was flushed a swollen pink with a pearl of precum nestled against the slit. He pressed his thumb to it, watching the thin lines of arousal stick to his finger.  
  
Beside him was his bag of essentials, a few toys and a bottle of warming lubricant that smelled like cotton candy. Jaehwan had run out of the cooling kind, which was unfortunate, since he was able to feel things more acutely that way. The barista lived for sensory overload, liked to enhance, and intensify his experience. He opened the cap and poured a generous amount of gel into his palm, spreading it over his length in firm, slow strokes. The heated sensation claimed the moist area of his skin within seconds and he suffered it, gasping at the slightest brush of air.  
  
He’d given up on his boxers – the warmth becoming too much too soon, and slid them down his pale legs, tossing them onto a tall pile of clothes in the corner of his bedroom. He parted his thighs prettily for his audience, having shaved himself clean for the purpose of showing a better view. Admittedly, he had started to enjoy the maintenance over time. And it wasn’t so bad when he kept up with it.  
  
“We’re not taking things slowly tonight,” Jaehwan murmured distractedly, as he applied more lubricant to his fingers. Yes, taking things slowly meant more money, but he was so impatient. The session was turning out to be more about himself than he would have liked, taking it from professional to intimate. He needed and wanted – not even fully realizing, until he was struck by its force, the heavy pull that existed right down to his very marrow.  
  
The chills wracking him could be the medication wearing off, the fever growing more aggressive, and stubborn. It was probably the flu that went around last week. Jaehwan was a fool for ever thinking he’d get by unscathed.  
  
The barista teased a slick finger at his entrance, shivering without being able to help it, teeth biting down to prevent them from chattering. It felt like he was melting, the heat from the gel leaving him aware of just how wet and messy he’d made things. When he looked at his monitor to take in what the viewers were seeing, he felt his stomach clench tightly. Narcissism was a real illness. Jaehwan knew this, having coveted the fact that his vanity grew worse each day. He curved his finger, angling it so that they could see the slow push and pull, the way the clear liquid oozed and clung around his slim digit.  
  
Wonshik’s husky voice was in his ear, ‘I’m your biggest fan.’ Jaehwan’s eyes fluttered briefly, as he added a second finger, opening himself up further with each thrust. ‘This is mine, isn’t it?’ He shuddered, remembering the way the other man’s eyes held him still, Wonshik’s breath cold on his skin, lips soft when they’d grazed him. The whole encounter had been electric. His cock twitched from the warming liquid, like a flame was near his skin, licking its way down his swollen length. Jaehwan imagined a head full of fire red hair between his trembling thighs, holding them far apart with hands that were larger than his own.  
  
When he felt ready for one of his toys, he snapped out of his reverie to regard his audience. A few had noticed how lost he was, assuming that it was all from the pleasure. A majority of it was, but the fantasy kept resurfacing in every quiet corner of his mind, that Wonshik was watching, or better yet, Wonshik was there in his room, with his dark lips wrapped around the head of his cock. The fingers delving into his hole grew more frantic in pace, harsher – slamming in rather than thrusting. The lewd sounds of his body accepting each intrusion was positively filthy.

 

 

> **ydgfswg:** ohmygod. fuck. i’m hard again.  
>  _ydgfswg tipped $100._  
>  **69BIGMAN69:** IVE CUM TWICE ALREDY. PLZ. HAV MERZY.  
>  **happyK:** Why are you like this, Ken? You’re so needy tonight. You can’t even wait.  
>  _happyK tipped $100._

  
Jaehwan arched his back against the bed frame, a guttural moan tearing from his throat. He wanted something big, probably bigger than what he’d purchased in the past, since he’d done well to avoid the discomfort. Jaehwan wanted it to be real, pulsating and hot, stretching and filling him up. It would be exquisite to feel the heavy firmness of another body atop his own then, claiming and fucking into him until he was sobbing and wrecked.  
  
He slowly removed his fingers, one by one, before grabbing at the flesh of his ass, and spreading himself wide for his viewers, showing them how well he’d worked himself apart. There was color to Jaehwan’s skin, a light pink that traveled from his neck to his chest. The sheen that clung to his skin was no longer just from the glitter, the sweat making him feel as though he were covered in an extra layer of dirt.  
  
He chose the thickest toy he had, which wasn’t by much – it was only a starter, pouring more lubricant along its jelly base and tip. It had ridges and what was supposed to be realistic veins, however how realistic could it be when the color of it was lavender?  
  
Jaehwan’s eyes snapped up to the monitor, “Beg me.” And although his mouth was covered, the amusement was there in his words, his confident smirk audible in his tone.  
  
In all honesty, he didn’t need to be coaxed into doing anything, for his cock was a heavy and painful problem that lied against the flat of his stomach, smearing precum across his skin with each shaky exhale. He probably wouldn’t last very long either. The tip jar dinged a few seconds at a time, money flashing up on the screen. Their form of begging was with payment and Jaehwan loved it.  
  
And to be honest, it was difficult for Jaehwan to love much of anything, especially people – which was ironic, all things considered.  
  
He removed his jacket and got up on his knees. The floor beneath him was polished wood and it hurt like a bitch to be kneeling on. However, the surface was perfect for the suction cup at the end of his toy, delicate fingers stroking over the dildo, testing out how well it would stay put, determining that it would work.  
  
Through the dark haze of his arousal, Jaehwan could see Wonshik sprawled out across his bed, sky blue suit and wild hair, the tattoos across his chest a mere blur of what he could remember.  
  
_‘_ _Don_ _’_ _t forget about them,_ _’_ Wonshik said, voice deep and measured – utterly nerve-wracking. Then the redhead was unbuttoning his blazer, trailing an inked hand over his clothed cock. Jesus.  
  
Jaehwan felt a familiar ache in his balls, as he took his neglected cock into his palm, and hissed loudly at the firm contact. His other hand went behind to guide the thick head of his toy to his entrance, teasing it over his hole – wetting it with the excess lube there, before sinking down slowly. He mourned having to tear his eyes away from the mirage in front of him, to look over his shoulder at the camera.  
  
“I wish you were here,” Jaehwan murmured, teeth once again pulling at his bottom lip, “…fucking me with your big cock.” He ran his thumb over the head of his dick, crying softly – every sob making the toy push into him further. “Ah, fuck, fuck…” He wanted Wonshik licking at the sensitive skin of his back, leaving marks down the knobs of his spine. He wanted that low voice at his ear, cursing, promising.  
  
His brows furrowed cutely, as he tried keeping his eyes open, and took the rest of the toy’s length. Fuck. He was so full, stretched beyond his limits. Wonshik appeared again, this time on the monitor – slowly running his pink tongue across his equally rosy lips, before speaking. ‘What else do you want from me? Tell me.’  
  
Jaehwan couldn’t answer him, even if he wanted to, knowing that anything beyond sex would be a lie, because Jaehwan couldn’t love anything or anyone more than he loved himself.  
  
He started stroking his cock in the same rhythm as his hips. The arm that had been behind his back was now in the sheets of his bed, pulling them down to where he was, and using them as leverage. Each thrust made the effects of the warming liquid more noticeable. It was like being filled with cum, hot and wet inside – making him feel reminiscent, desiring the act of having real sex. He wanted to be crushed against his bed, unable to do anything other than to feel.  
  
“I’m already so close…” Jaehwan murmured just when his body was struck by the first blissful graze over his prostate. Beneath the mask, his mouth had fallen slack, completely torn by the sensation. He followed the same angle, chasing after it, hips slamming down repeatedly, until he felt the muscles in his stomach beginning to tense up.  
  
Wonshik was beside him then with his long legs resting straight across the floorboards, palming at the visible bulge against his fitted slacks - making a sound that was like a purr. Jaehwan clenched and shivered, hand gliding over his cock swift and wet and tight and he imagined what it would be like if Wonshik made him stop, so he could swallow down his length. Wonshik's illusion raised an eyebrow at the barista’s suggestive thought, acting upon Jaehwan’s wish for the second time – allowing him the visual behind closed eyelids. Wonshik’s mouth parted around the swollen tip of his cock.  
  
Jaehwan’s fingers curled in his bedding, knuckles bone white. The tip jar notification was going off again, pulling him from his fantasy. Right, his audience. He slowly opened his eyes, staring directly into the lens. More dings and he laughed shakily, gently lifting off the toy to adjust his position. He was sitting like Wonshik then, back pressed to the wood of his bed, and legs spread far apart.  
  
He applied more lubricant against his hole, as well as the toy, removing the base from the floor to ease it back inside. Jaehwan’s head fell back, his upper half arching – bare feet curled. The sounds of him being filled, of each upward stroke over his cock, the thick swallows of his saliva were so loud – the barista felt alive.  
  
“So, this is what you’re really like…” Wonshik was on his screen again, wiping at the corners of his mouth as though he’d actually just finished sucking Jaehwan off. He paused then, cold eyes making the barista’s skin burn. “Do you think it’ll break my heart?” A deep chuckle echoed tauntingly through the monitor. “Who’s to say that I won’t break yours first?”  
  
Jaehwan sobbed like he was suffering, wrist moving in circles, while he guided the toy deeper, harder until he was careening in bliss – shattering when he’d finally released. Hot spurts of cum painted over his knuckles and stomach. His entire body continued to shake long after he’d come back down, breathing shallow and limbs aching.  
  
The fever was back.  
  
He reached over for his boxer briefs and wiped himself clean with them. Then his eyes were back on the chat, amused by their flooding responses.  
  
Jaehwan held up the used fabric, “Who tipped the highest tonight? Send your address to the email in my profile and I will ship you your prize.”  
  
After turning off his feed, he took more of the cough suppressants that awaited him. He was utterly miserable, giving himself a moment to whine his way into the shower, and scrub his body of the filth. Then he’d crawled into bed and immediately logged onto his Daum café account, wondering if Wonshik had subscribed. The barista’s eyes skimmed over comments from his latest post, but nothing stood out. What if Jaehwan never saw him again?  
  
_‘I’m your biggest fan.’_  
  
Jaehwan kept returning to those words like it was supposed to mean something. He had plenty of fans. They come and go. It didn’t hurt – never hurt.  
  
He crossed his fingers into a heart, bringing them to the warmth of his lips. Wonshik’s breath at that time, his touch, even his eyes had been like ice.  
  
Sure, Wonshik had just come in from the cold, and had worn very little, but that half lidded gaze...  
  
Jaehwan shook the thought from his mind, deciding not to linger on it.  
  
There was no room for anyone else, barely enough room for himself.

* * *

She awoke with a start, scooting herself against the arm of the couch – the very old, unfamiliar couch that smelled of mildew.   
  
A rush of thoughts swarmed her mind, bitter recollections – that she’d been hurt, bitten even. Her hand reached for the side of her neck, feeling over the rough material of the gauze bandage that was placed there. The area was sore, as though it were merely a bruise she’d sustained, nothing too serious. Yeah, fucking right though. Did getting bitten by a shark qualify as, ‘nothing too serious’? That guy, what the fuck was he really?    
  
She wasn’t convinced that the lunatic from earlier was a vampire. Maybe he was a part of some cult, pretending to be one? It wasn’t entirely unheard of, nor that farfetched. People were terrifying and unpredictable. And vampires weren’t real. The guy was probably really sick and needed help, whether it was padded walls or a pair of police cuffs.      
  
There were small band-aids wrapped around three of her left fingers and she recalled the wine glass. How her blood had dripped much like one of the more expensive machines at the café, almost too slow and agonizing to watch. Then she remembered the utter lack of control. That she’d lost her sense of self, the mobility of her own limbs, even her will.  
  
What if she was still there somehow? Still trapped inside the basement, locked away with _him_ …She stood up quickly at the thought, ignoring the sudden waves of dizziness she’d been plagued with.  
  
First, she had to figure out where the hell she was, and if she was alone.    
  
The place was dark. However it was very much unlike the basement where Taekwoon resided. He’d been the one living below her the whole time, which was an unsettling thought now, all things considered. The thick lampshades provided very little light, despite there being several of them turned on in the spacious room. A part of her appreciated the warm glow it gave off, but her peace of mind needed to be salvaged, before she could truly feel at ease again – if it were at all possible to do so anymore.  
  
A taxi to the nearest hospital and then another downtown to the police station would have to happen sooner rather than later.  
  
She’d spotted a bright yellow sticky note on the table beside her. There were scribbles in familiar handwriting on it that read, _‘Call the shop if you need anything’_. It was Hongbin’s penmanship, one of her bosses over at BeanCha. How the hell had she ended up at what was probably his place? She caught sight of a picture frame that was propped up on one of the long shelves in the living room. It confirmed her belief, as she recognized the prominent dimples on what looked like a five year old Hongbin’s face.    
  
He was most likely working his shift now. Was he the one who’d bandaged her up and put her in a fresh shirt? He must’ve seen the bites, the cuts, and a whole lot more, but she didn’t care at the moment. She could only imagine what kind of thoughts were running through his head. She might find herself out a job tomorrow. The idea of it made her snort, since it would only be icing on the cake of what was a very shitty week.  
  
How did he find her? How did he know where to look? Was he part of it?     
  
It was time to leave.  
  
Just as she reached the front door, she was confronted by another post-it note. This one was at the top of the chain to one of the many locks and at eyelevel. _Christ, Hongbin_. She slowly peeled it from off the metal, and stared at the words until they were practically etched into her skull.

 

 

> _‘Don’t let him in.’_

  
Next to the door was a row of narrow blinds that were tightly shut. She’d slid her fingers between two of them and grew still with trepidation – both sensing and fearing Taekwoon, yet not knowing whether it was caused by paranoia or not. In the past, she’d fought down every last one of her instincts in favor of being normal. This moment wasn’t any different from those times, conditioned to behave as such, choosing to laugh at the situation, at her miserable life.  
  
Braver in the face of that same comedy, comforted by it even, she drew back the blinds to stare out into the night. How late was it? An entire day had gone by. Homes were lit up and the streetlamps were on, making the sky appear darker in her opinion. Logic be damned.  
  
_Still…_  
  
The girl had known exactly where to look, tearing her eyes from identical houses to meet the tall figure standing to the right of her peripheral. Taekwoon was standing there outside Hongbin’s house. With his hands tucked casually into the front pockets of his ripped jeans, he appeared unassuming, like a regular guy waiting for his date to step out.  
  
A small group of teenagers turned the corner and were bound to walk by. She’d felt her entire body tense up.  
  
What should she do? What _could_ she do? Call the cops.  
  
A ghost of a smile graced Taekwoon’s lips, seeming to know of her distress. Luckily, he wasn’t all that interested in pursuing it, not even to mess with her, too immersed with engaging his present target.     
  
He parted his lips with a sigh, the sound somewhat dramatic and breathy when he spoke. “I was waiting for you to wake up.” Taekwoon stared at her then, zeroing in – pinning her to the spot. And slowly, so very slowly, she allowed the few blinds to slip from her numb fingers, and felt herself break.

* * *

**TBC.**


	5. Not Rupert Giles Part II

**A/N:** HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! Hey guys…I know it’s been awhile. I’d like to thank you for your patience, comments, kudos, and subscriptions. Please keep feeding me. I know this update took a long while, but that was mainly due to the secret santa story I had to write. I’m a one project at a time type of person. Please look forward to it around the holidays. This chapter was incredibly difficult to write and I imagine that it won't get any easier from here. **  
  
Mention:** _Thank you to my friends for looking over this chapter for me. Really scary not having someone to beta it, but you guys are so helpful. You're where my motivation comes from._  
  
**!Chapter pairings:** Taekwoon x OC, Wonshik x Hakyeon  
**!New tags added**

* * *

**Slay Girl, Slay**

* * *

_'Words deep soaked in gasoline and it’ll never change,  
And even if you loved me now, it’d just feel cold and strange.’_ – Clairity  
  
Chapter Five: _Not Rupert Giles Part II_  
  
Taekwoon kept his eyes shut for a long while, digesting every human thought and memory from his last feeding. The blood of a slayer was known for being more than just a powerful high. It took him further beyond what he presumed to know. Love started out this way, he imagined, mad and dizzying – psychotic, which was why he never partook in such bizarre rituals. His mother often mourned his ideals, scolding him over the phone, rather than in person.  
  
She couldn’t take staring at him for too long, seeing his father in every harsh, cold line of his face. He did not blame her for it, since his father was an absolute prick, a devil without the disguise. Vampires held events like soirees, extravagant parties, basking in the whimsy and riches of eternal youth – like a bunch of immortal jackasses. His mother liked to remind him of such, throwing calendar dates at him, and _names_ – names he couldn't care less about, further separating himself from his own kind.  
  
Taekwoon once made the mistake of attending one of these ‘mixers’ out of sheer curiosity. Not in the least bit surprised that it was a complete waste of his evening. He’d ended up having to answer for the absence of his brother. Wonshik was a laughing stock among the vampire community, the result of being captured by slayers. They doubted his sanity, which was a flimsy piece of string to begin with, but was now just a whisper of a strand – waiting to snap completely.  
  
At first glance, Taekwoon was sharp and intimidating, but his attitude was known to be passive, gallingly so. He hardly showed any semblance of interest or care, not bothering to speak unless directly prompted. Even then, it had to be worth soliciting a response. They’d never suspect that he’d spent the entire night devising ways to personally kill each vampire who inquired about Wonshik, whether it was genuine or not. Mostly not.  
  
Taekwoon was the type to hold grudges, memory impeccable, yet it was a hindrance for that exact reason. It was before he’d set out on his suicide mission to rescue his brother, that he went in front of the council, dignity shoved aside, despite his mother’s advisement not to bother. Quiet, passive Taekwoon, knees to marble, palms to needles as a blood offering. He’d begged the elders for their assistance, but in the end, they would not extend their aid.  
  
With resentment so potent, it was impossible for him to look back anymore.    
  
He returned to the slayer’s memories, while he still could – going over her days living at the sanctuary. The most precious memories she had were of nature, the light touch of a butterfly landing upon her skin. The crisp smell of an autumn chill, as she kicked her feet through piles of dead, raked up leaves. The calming desolation of a white winter morning, every inch of ground covered in snow. The first honeysuckles of spring, tentatively picking them apart for a taste of sweetness, nimble fingers plucking the ripened fruits and vegetables from the church garden.  
  
She always ran away from potential foster parents, choosing to hide inside a small closet in the east wing of the church, but she knew that she’d quickly be found. Sister Clara was soft in her old age, serving the slayer as a cheerful existence that kept coming up again and again. He could easily sense the motherly tone from the teachings she’d instilled, an unspoken claim without the need of paperwork. If the nun hadn’t died, Taekwoon would have questioned her for himself, seeing as how she’d given the girl her anointed piece of jewelry.  
  
Had she always known that she had a slayer in her care? How did the child end up at the church? What were the circumstances? The birth of a new slayer entailed the passing of such great power, that it resulted in the death of the mother. Luckily, he would not have to bother with wondering. However, her father or perhaps a follower had brought her to the sanctuary. It was a smart choice that kept her safely hidden, until now.  
  
No, now he could see everything.        
  
The church had an adjoining parish, a private Catholic School, one that she was able to attend free of charge. But she despised it, for reasons that Taekwoon found to be small, and inconsequential. Her heart suffered for its weakness, as she was bullied for being poor, buried so far beneath the prejudices and cruelty of the rich, that she had grown a complex. Crying whenever she was scolded, acting like a delegated victim. Then there was the issue of the clergy, the Reverend Father, whose gaze tended to linger longer than was appropriate.    
  
Taekwoon slipped from her memories, a tired sigh leaving his lips, “You should have told someone how he made you feel, said that it felt like worms caressing your skin, cold and sticky. Do you think he’s still there, in all his muddy filth, making _other children’s_ skin crawl? What if he gets bored of _just_ watching?” The stars were out in the vast, evening sky – their pale light was nearly blinding to a vampire. The soft hum of his voice carried over to her sweetly, “I imagine that you’d partially be at fault for whatever happens to them next. It’s something you think about every night, isn’t it? How one day, you’ll see it on the news or in the papers. That time when he did more than just watch…”  
  
Her heart was pounding hard against her ribcage, each heavy beat was enough to steal her breath away, as though she were to be crushed by the weight of his words. He could smell the heady fragrance of her fear and panic, even as strong gusts of wind attempted to blow it elsewhere. Taekwoon took her scent into his lungs, ingesting it to the pit of his stomach, and he swore he felt warm then. She was fresh scones with blueberry preserve and along with her dread, came the addition of English cream.  
  
It was back to pastry hell for him, thinking about the honeysuckle strands sucked between her lips. How easily it could become the tips of her small fingers dragging across his fangs. He ached for another taste so badly, that he felt a burn at his gum line, a throb within the bone of his teeth – right at the nerve. It was fucking unpleasant.              
  
Taekwoon in turn, felt the need to be cruel. “If Sister Clara was still alive, I would have tortured her, nice and slow. I would have strung her up like she was cattle for the slaughter. As though she were nothing more than meat on a hook, waiting to be quantified, and measured for consumption.” He smiled fondly when he heard her small, quick breaths. Was she hyperventilating? “I saw you hiding when you were little, always hiding with your clammy, anxious hands and bleary surroundings.”  
  
“Get the fuck out of here,” she shouted between gasps, small fists banging once on the door in front of her.  
  
“About that.” Taekwoon approached the patio, his long legs carrying him up the old, creaking steps. He stared at the door she felt safe behind. “It’s either I deal with you or they will and I really don’t want them in my city. So, tonight I’m willing to settle for some answers. I already know that you don’t have any for me, but he might, your watcher.”  
  
Who the fuck is ‘they’? And he was here for Hongbin? Watcher?  
  
“My _what_? You mean my boss? You’re not making any sense. Stop – stop fucking talking. I don’t know how you got that information on me, but I need–” She closed her eyes for a moment and tried again. “I need you to just leave, before I call the cops. And the way I see it, a boring town like this one, they’ll jump at the chance of locking you up.”  
  
Taekwoon could laugh, but the effort might be too strenuous. “Drinking your blood allowed me to see into your past, bringing to light all of those dark corners you tried hiding from everyone, most especially yourself. How did that work out for you, when I know everything now?” He pressed his fingers to the front door and was able to feel the electricity of her body through its barrier. “It would be unwise to forsake my kindness, so listen to me very carefully. I will spare you this one night. One – that’s being more than generous and it’s enough time to leave town.”   
  
“Even if I were to agree to your ridiculous offer, which I’m not – I’d have nowhere to go, and no money to travel with, making it less than ideal. So, I’m gonna have to swipe pass on that bullshit.” She threw her hands up, “Look out, your kindness is being forsaken! Like, what would you have wanted in return for my compliance? Hongbin’s life and to never look back? You are one sick fuck–”   
  
“You’ve lost a lot of blood today.” Taekwoon said, choosing to go a different route with her. ‘Seeing is believing’ and although Hongbin hadn’t had the opportunity to train her yet, she’d already acquired his sharp tongue, and all-a-round shitty attitude. “I drank nearly two liters from you, not to mention the wounds on your fingers, and the one I made on your neck. You should have gone into hypovolemic shock and died, but you didn’t. Tell me, does it still hurt? Why don’t you check on them for me?”  
  
Now that she thought about it – there really wasn’t any pain to be felt, and what should have been her injured hand, was now pressed firmly against the door. It didn’t sting, not even a little bit. She started to tear at each of her bandages, the skin she revealed unmarked, as though the knife cuts had never happened. She also noticed a difference in her usual bout of anxiety. The adrenaline itself was irregular, as though flowing like a natural energy, instead of being driven by the fight or flight response. It was like being high up, but in control, yet not at all. It made her feel like she could do anything.   
  
“Your ‘boss’, he’s clever, but he treads so, so dangerously outside the box.” Taekwoon scraped at his bottom lip with his teeth, pulling until the taste of copper was on the tip of his tongue. “I find it refreshing, although impressing me won’t do much for him in the end.”  
  
She removed the gauze tape from the side of her throat, walking the short distance to an antique mirror that was hanging against the opposite wall. Her complexion was vibrant, leaving no telltale signs of any blood loss. The line of her neck was smooth, any traces of an attack – gone. But it happened, it was real. That level of pain couldn’t possibly have been imagined, canines as sharp as blades tearing through her skin, a sensation that she’d never be able to forget. What in the actual fuck?  
  
The raw panic she felt made the whole room shift, the floor suddenly becoming an unsteady surface. She shot her arm out just in time to catch herself from taking a nasty spill.  
  
How was any of this real anymore?  
  
“Give it a moment to sink in,” Taekwoon said, as he took in his surroundings, searching for something that he could throw through the watcher’s bay window. Seeing her face while having these life altering conversations would rid layers of appalling, unwanted rudeness. His thrall probably wouldn’t work on her anymore. The magic was gone once the trick was revealed. “Also, you should know that Hongbin has never viewed himself as your boss and that he probably doesn’t give two fucks about coffee.”  
  
_Jaehwan dumped out a fresh pot of the morning crew’s coffee, standing back as the hot steam flooded the sink. He coughed, unable to stand the wretched smell of burnt Dark Roast beans. “Fuck – how is Kong a co-owner, yet he sucks so hard at making coffee? We should tell Hakyeon not to let him prep anymore. It’s a total waste.”_  
  
_‘Well, shit,’_ she thought. _‘He’s right.’_       
  
There was a three-foot tall barrier of rock cement that separated Hongbin’s driveway from his lawn. It started out high and thick, tapering down until it blended in with the sidewalk. This seemed to be the case with every house. The vampire stepped off the patio, choosing to walk along the surface of the divider, carefully – as though he were a trapeze artist, needing to maintain perfect balance. One laced-up leather shoe in front of the other. He tilted ever so slightly to one side, having a moment of childlike joy over the idea of falling.  
  
All it would take was one, firmly placed step, just a tiny ounce of his strength, to break through the wall. And luckily, no one was outside to witness such a thing. Typical suburban families, already tucked in their beds by eight-o-clock. Taekwoon stomped his foot only the once, leaving a sizable crack within the foundation. He nudged at a decently large chunk of the cement, watching as it fell over onto the watcher’s driveway. It was perfect. Taekwoon picked the rock up with ease and continued back onto the patio.    
  
He paused for a moment to listen for her, hearing her short, laborious breaths closest to the front door, not within range of being hit. Her heartbeat was loud and fast, an exquisite melody that made him more eager to break down the walls of Hongbin’s home.  
  
“Are you falling apart already?” He asked, as he turned the rock in his hand for a better grip, rearing his arm back. “You’re going to love this, then.” And with that, he tossed it through the window, its mass sending the blinds with it to the living room carpet. The broken shards glittered like a sea of gems on the floor, the watcher’s belongings dusted with glass diamonds.    
  
Taekwoon quietly observed – as the loud crash startled her into action, her screams far too short for him to properly savor. He’d expected more – more pleasant shrills. She was running into the kitchen. He could hear the rough sounds of an old drawer being yanked open. The girl was looking for a weapon. The clang of metal let him know that she’d found one.  
  
Their eyes met at a distance, the intensity of his stare knocking the breath from her lungs. She trembled visibly, “I’m calling the police.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans, while the other hand was occupied with holding a flimsy steak knife. The amusement was endless for him, to the point where he felt a little antsy, no different than a cat waiting out a mouse. It was only a matter of time.     
  
“Sure.” He nodded, agreeing with her. “You could do that. I’m not picky with whom I drink from. You’d be bringing me a free meal, although, it‘s not like there aren’t enough of those walking around.” She slowly brought her arm down at her side, feeling unsure of herself, and defeated beneath his gaze – for as unfaltering and blunt as it was. “There are so many kids on this street, too. I can hear some of them, the ones that haven’t gone to sleep yet.”  
  
“How lovely to know that you aren’t above eating children,” she’d practically gritted out, disgusted by the underlining threat. “What is it that you want?”  
  
Taekwoon tilted his head, two fingers beckoning her closer. “Come here, so that I can properly see you.” He bit at the side of his lip, releasing it with a breathy laugh, as though he were shy, as if he weren’t a monster. “I need to look at you again.”  
  
She snorted with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, right.”  
  
“If I were capable of walking in, I would have done it already. You can trust that, can’t you?” He cupped the sides of his neck, thumb and forefinger pressing his tonsils. “It’s been a long time since I’ve spoken for such a long duration. My ears and throat are starting to itch.”  
  
She was still trying to sort through his intentions. “You could be waiting for me to get close enough.”  
  
“To do what? Throw another rock?” Taekwoon showed her his empty hands, wiggling his fingers for emphasis. He was being playful, which was as well received as a dead deer carcass on the side of a road. “I don’t intend on diving in through the window at you, either, so you can do away with that thought. Besides, it wouldn’t take such dramatics to disarm you.”  
  
“What about your tricks?” She asked, referring to the thrall, refusing to acknowledge it as a ‘power’. There was still a very big part of her that was trying to hold on to reality. If she believed in what was proposed, the world she knew would be a fucked up place.    
  
“My ‘tricks’,” Taekwoon said, finding her state of cluelessness to be endearing, but also a bit tired. “I wouldn’t have to be in the same country, let alone a specific range to use my tricks on you. Why? Do you miss it? Want me to force you to invite me in?” He stared at her neck, watching the hard, rhythmic fluttering of her heartbeat. “Your fear is a distraction for me, the way it calls, the way it smells, how good it would taste. I want to drink you dry, until there is nothing left.”     
  
_‘Sick,’_ she thought. _‘He must be very sick._ ’ No matter how hard she fought to rationalize his existence, fighting to believe that he was not supernatural, all it would take was a moment of eye-contact to undo all of her false logic. She was drawn to him – fearing him, absolutely. For what he did to her, she was fucking terrified. It didn’t help that he was dangerously alluring, the embodiment of corruption, or the treacherously charming prelude to her demise.            
  
“Okay, let’s play your game. You’re a vampire. So, you can’t come in, unless you’re invited.” She said, taking her time walking closer towards him, glass cracking like thin ice beneath her steps. She was testing the lore out, waiting for his expression to disapprove of what little about it she could remember. “I mean, that’s why you haven’t…”  
  
“…killed you yet?” He finished, watching as the affliction blossomed across her normally soft features, so torn and deeply mortified that it was beautiful to a creature like Taekwoon. “Think of it as a fairytale, like the ones you used to read at night in secrecy. I was always partial to the story of Little Red Riding Hood.”  
  
The irony wasn’t lost on her. “I’m sure...”  
  
When she was only but a couple feet away from the broken window, his eyes roamed over the length of her body. The heat from his open scrutiny was unnerving, as though it were being burned into her skin. It was obvious to him that she was wearing one of Hongbin’s shirts, since it was several sizes too big, and he'd practically ripped the original article to shreds. This was better, face to face – so much better, because now he could see her hatred, could smell it in the air between them.  
  
It was amusing to him, that in this day and age, she could still decline the truth of what he was, and so persistently. “You’re naïve for a millennial, surprisingly close-minded.”  
  
Close-minded? Being within arm’s length of Taekwoon, fearing for her life on a primal level, having to trust that there was an invisible wall keeping them separated. She bantered to calm her nerves, “You’re pretty strange for a human, pretending to be a vampire, throwing rocks through windows like a teenage delinquent. How old are you again?”  
  
Taekwoon's dark eyes narrowed, hissing sharp and abrupt – the sound horrifically amplified by several inhuman octaves, causing instant chills to breakout across her skin. He was baring his fangs at her, two finely pointed, elongated canines. Taekwoon was as close as he could get to her, giving her a nice, long look. It was a cold, bitter reminder of the pain she’d experienced when he’d buried them into her throat.  
  
“Was being bitten not real enough for you? How much more will it take for you to believe?” His fangs peeked out whenever he spoke, more noticeable now that she was focused on them. Taekwoon traced his finger down the curve of his neck, stopping where he’d fed from her on his own body. “You remember our intimate exchange. You’d wanted to die.” A thin line of blood formed beneath the pressure of his nail and it was impossible for her to look away from it, ensnared by the morbidity of the situation.      
  
She burst into a fit of laughter then, trying to quiet the sobs that wanted to escape instead, because fuck – this was dangerous. Believing him would be dangerous, so she decided to ignore what he’d said, “A dentist could’ve fashioned those for you. How much did you pay for them?”  
  
A smile broke upon Taekwoon’s handsome face, slow forming and sweet – as sweet and deadly as a lie. “Where is Hongbin? Shouldn’t he have been home by now?”  
  
She wordlessly looked down at the piece of shit phone in her hand, because she was now wondering the very same thing. Where was he? His shift should have been over by now. She had to tell Hongbin not to come home, that a lunatic was on his lawn, and that he threw a rock through his window. During work hours, she often kept her phone on silent, and as a result, she’d missed all of Hongbin’s text messages, and calls.  
  
**Contact:** _#GetBeaned_  
Thursday, Dec 5 th, 2017  
\-----------------------------     
_\- Are you up? How’re you feeling? Did you get my post-its? Call me when you get this._  
_\- It’s sundown. Taekwoon is probably on his way. Don’t go outside until I get there._  
_\- Hey, so, if you see a guy with red hair. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. I’ve already messaged Jaehwan. I doubt he’ll listen to me. Maybe I should have told him pursue it, at least then he’d possibly rebel against me?_  
_\- I just got out of work, but I need to stop off at the hardware store, and build something on the fly. It might take a few hours, but I’ve built one before, so hopefully not._  
_\- On my way._  
  
[ **Clear Messages** ]  
  
She spared Taekwoon a quick glance, thumb moving over the text pad to respond to Hongbin's slew of messages, “One sec.”  
  
_\- I’m awake. I feel sick. Got two of your notes. Can’t talk. Taekwoon is here. He broke your window :’(….Do you have homeowner’s insurance? Don’t worry. I’m inside, which means I’m safe apparently. Oh, no, no, Jaehwan won’t listen to anyone. Please hurry._  
  
Tucking her phone into her pocket, she nodded more to herself than to Taekwoon. “He’s on his way.”  
  
“I can catch myself something to eat while we wait then.” The vampire said, as he stepped onto the lawn. He could hear two humans talking a few blocks away. They were going over possible venues for their engagement party. Taekwoon might’ve found his next meal, when a noise disrupted him from listening in. It was distinctly louder than any other immediate sound he could detect, so much so that it drowned out his very thought.  
  
Hongbin’s tires gave an awful screech, when he made a sharp turn onto his block, the truck bouncing once he’d stepped down on the accelerator. _Duran Duran_ was blaring through his speakers, the music thrumming through his body like an electric pulse. Taekwoon should have seen it coming, but he wouldn’t have expected the watcher to be so bold as to drive up onto his own lawn, hitting the vampire at such high velocity that he went with the vehicle’s force of motion, pinning him to the rough bark of an old tree.  
  
The girl stood at the broken window with a terrible pressure in her chest. There was nothing she could do to keep from shaking. Neither man appeared to be moving. And the urge to call for an ambulance or to run out and help was beginning to overwhelm her. But all she could do was watch, stricken with fear.  
  
She choked out a sob, emotions tight in her throat, “Hongbin…”  
  
The music blasting from the watcher’s truck reached a block and a half down, making an otherwise quiet street, loud and chaotic.  
  
_‘Mouth is alive with juices like wine. And I’m hungry like the wolf…’  
_

* * *

Something was wrong. It had to be, since it was Thursday and Jaehwan was supposed to be at work nearly twenty minutes ago. Funny thing – he wasn’t. His human was not where he was supposed to be. Such unexpected developments weren’t good for a sensitive vampire like Wonshik. It made it harder for him to think straight, on top of impulses that already told him not to bother thinking at all.    
  
He’d gone out of his way to wear his favorite beret tonight, gaining the attention of anyone who was within radius of him. That’s what he gets for being relatively underdressed during winter, but he just couldn’t help himself. Besides, Wonshik enjoyed being eyed up by human-shaped meals, confident in the fact that he belonged on a runway during fashion week. However, his efforts were wasted for the evening.  
  
Sulking, he found himself feeling uncomfortably concerned as to why his barista was a no-show. Expressing human emotion was an annoyance for most vampires, but it made Wonshik lose his patience real quick, which brought out his thirst. Not ideal for when he needed to accomplish things. He wouldn’t be leaving empty handed. He’d make sure that something like this never happened again.   
  
The customer bell on the door chimed, as Wonshik stepped inside BeanCha’s. It was busy, nearly a full house with most of the seats already filled up with patrons. Standing at the register was a man he’d seen a handful of times, while watching Jaehwan from the shadows like some modern-day pervert. And if his cute barista hadn’t existed, perhaps this human would have found himself a target. Because Wonshik knew elegance when he saw it, could practically taste it on the roof of his mouth. _Cha Hakyeon_ , the nametag read.  
  
What a lovely name.     
  
“Welcome,” Hakyeon said, pausing to see that his next customer was the guy from the other night, the one with the bright red hair. This time he was wearing an expensive deep red coat made of wool, with again, an absurd amount of skin left to be exposed. Apparently this guy didn’t believe in wearing shirts. There were tattoos from his neck down, which was something Hakyeon hadn’t noticed the first time, having been too stunned by his choice of attire.  
  
Not to say that he wasn’t presently stunned, because Christ, he was – he really, really was. “Aren’t you cold?” Hakyeon asked, laughing at his own nerves. Wonshik’s ears delighted at the soft sound. It was so pleasant, that he’d practically purred in response.  
  
“Aren’t you warm?” Wonshik teased, the unnatural blue of his eyes glowing ethereally, catching Hakyeon unaware in the process. It happened whenever a vampire felt any emotion too strongly, whether it was anger or hunger. And as it turned out, Wonshik was already in one hell of a mood due to questionable Jaehwan’s absence. “Have you seen me before?” _Pretty human._  
  
Hakyeon found himself at a loss for words at first, staring up at the vampire as though he were a deity, so utterly enrapt by his presence. It took him a full minute to gather his thoughts, “Last night you were here, wearing practically nothing. Today, you’ve somehow managed to wear even less.”  
  
Wonshik deadpanned, “And?”  
  
“I had wondered if...” Hakyeon trailed, struggling to maintain a simple conversation. It’s just building rapport, he tried telling himself, but it hadn’t helped. He was too enamored, gone from this world. “I mean, I would still really like to know…if you’re cold?”  
  
It shouldn’t have been that hard.  
  
“To others, I can be freezing cold,” Wonshik said, extending his hand to Hakyeon with his palm facing upwards, “Feel for yourself if you wish.” The human hadn’t hesitated, his hot skin meeting cold, causing a chill to course throughout his body. Wonshik closed his fingers around Hakyeon’s tan, delicate ones, holding them gently. “I’m as cold as a corpse, really.”  
  
Hakyeon allowed their fingers to entwine, fighting the urge to lean towards Wonshik. “But won’t you get sick?”  
  
Wonshik almost smiled, “No.” Born a vampire, he’d never experienced human ailments. A vampire with the common cold or worse was unheard of, and not a thing. The sickest he’d ever felt was an upset stomach and the occasional sun poisoning. It made his head pound and his skin was bruised for a day or so.  
  
“But you can’t go outside in such little clothing,” Hakyeon reasoned, despite Wonshik being a painfully obvious distraction. The younger couldn’t stop looking at him. “You’ll catch your death.”  
  
Wonshik’s eyes danced with quiet amusement, keeping his secrets to himself for now. Hakyeon was – like most humans, _oodles of fun_ for vampires, but like most vampires, Wonshik was currently starved from a gluttonous thirst. It was all too easy to imagine tearing into Hakyeon’s flesh to get to his blood, so sweetly fulfilling under his bite. Golden skin and dark lips, Hakyeon was tragically beautiful, an enticement placed in Wonshik’s path meant to test and provoke him.  
  
Perhaps it was time to stop flirting. “I’ve noticed that Jaehwan isn’t in today. How come?”  
  
Hakyeon’s face dropped at the mention of his star barista. He could have really used a dose of the blonde’s high-spirited energy tonight. Also, the other barista on the schedule called out at the last minute, leaving him to man the front solo. “Jaehwan is sick with the flu.” The blonde would have known what to say about his visit to Sanghyuk’s office in the morning, unlike Hongbin, who’d only discouraged him. The mere thought of having to see the collector again, face to face, was stressing him out.   
  
“Oh, but I need to see him. He’s my…” Did Wonshik appear to be younger or older, than Jaehwan? Due to his circumstances, he’d forever and always be a hyung, but – wait, why bother with lying? He stared at Hakyeon for a long moment and decided, thrall filtering through the smooth baritone of his voice. “Can you tell me what Jaehwan’s address is?”  
  
“I…” Hakyeon looked towards the direction of his office. The employee files were on the computer. It was wrong, not to mention illegal to handover employee information to a customer, but he actually considered doing it. Why? What if his actions placed Jaehwan in danger? His body grew tight with tension. The urge to provide Wonshik with an answer started to overwhelm him, so it was with difficulty that Hakyeon denied him. “I can’t.”    
  
The fact that Hakyeon managed to defy him proved the level of importance and care he held for Jaehwan, which was highly unwelcomed. Wonshik unclasped their hands in an abrupt motion, startling the human.  
  
Wonshik willed himself to act civil, a mask that was so thinly placed, “That’s very sweet of you, wishing to protect him, but tell me.” The vampire’s eyes were as glacial as the tone with which he spoke in, the hostility of it was enough to chill Hakyeon down to his marrow. “Do I seem dangerous to you?”  
  
Hakyeon’s skin trembled, his heart beating erratically, when he felt the cold touch of Wonshik’s knuckles brushing over his jawline. With his face tilted upwards, he was forced to stare back into Wonshik’s heavy gaze. Time was ticking. He was waiting for Hakyeon’s response, the rest of his patience dwindling as quickly as sand would when slipping through fingers.   
  
Hakyeon felt himself immediately cave beneath the icy touch, exhaling shakily, “God, yes.”  
  
Wonshik raised a delicate brow at the near breathless affirmation. It was so broken and strained, an involuntary reveal for Hakyeon, a humiliation that carried such a pleasant ringing to the vampire’s sensitive ears that it made his dick pulse with interest. He demonstrated his cruelty, mocking the café owner by using the same soft, affected tone, “Doesn’t seem like you mind it all that much.”  
  
Hakyeon took in a lungful of sweetened air, tart and addictive at the back of his throat. The heat from Wonshik’s thrall was a gentle invasion, subtle when it gradually took over his senses, caramelizing and boiling up inside of him, until he was nothing more than a confection of Wonshik’s choosing. He would do anything for a man he barely knew. Hakyeon’s eyelashes gave a soft flutter, pupils blown wide as they dilated, staring directly up into Wonshik’s, “I’m not sure…”  
  
A sharp laugh cut through the café owner’s numb mind long enough to fill him up with dread, a predatory smirk touching the corners of Wonshik’s lips, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to me, Hakyeon. It’s insulting, not to mention a pointless endeavor. See, I know the truth about what’s inside of you.” The slow venture of Wonshik’s fingers ended at the side of Hakyeon’s neck, settling his cold grip – careful as to not cut into the smooth, pliable skin beneath his nails. “You’re practiced in self-restraint, refined in ways where most are not. That’s only on the outside, but inside you’re a total kink freak, aren’t you? You’re dying to lose a bit of that control. You want to see what happens when the tight grip on your leash is let go of…”  
  
Hakyeon shook his head at the accusation, the tops of his cheeks colored a warm pink, “You’re wrong. That’s not me.”  
  
“Oh, but that is you, Hakyeon, so delicate now that you’ve forgotten what it’s like when things get rough – when they get dangerous.” Wonshik pulled the human in close by his neck until Hakyeon was leaned over the countertop on the tips of his toes. He sucked in a gasp when a pair of cool lips brushed purposefully across the shell of his ear, accompanied by Wonshik’s deep voice speaking very low to him, “Now be a good little bitch and fetch me Jaehwan’s address, before I fuck you, then eat you.”  
  
The thrall had settled into Hakyeon until his subconscious was saturated in its sweetness, stripping away his ability to be objective or to refute Wonshik’s whims. All inklings of doubt and prior skepticism had since been erased from his mind. Even the insult within the command had zero impact, whereas a rationally thinking Hakyeon would have lashed out at anyone who dared to be so bold as to speak to him in that manner. Some people found themselves being properly slapped for using that kind of language. Despite this, the café owner politely excused himself, before abandoning the busy storefront to go inside his office.  
  
Once the human was out of sight, Wonshik turned towards the customers. The weight of his thrall had kept them seated, completely oblivious as to why they hadn’t thought to leave yet. No new patrons entered, an odd feeling coming over those who had tried, convinced they wouldn’t be able to open the door with their own strength. He closed his eyes, listening to the discreet sounds of chairs scraping across the floorboards, tables emptying out one by one, coffees and half-eaten desserts deposited into the trash, before customers exited the shop in a single file line.  
  
When Wonshik looked across the room, the last human was turning the _Open_ sign to _Closed_ , and left without saying a word.  
  
Desire was a tricky concept for Wonshik, since it often evoked impulsive behavior. Not just from himself, but anyone who found themselves hindered by the same predicament, human or vampire. Although, a vampire who acted upon every impulse was not tolerated by the elders and he’d been front row to plenty of executions as a result. Wonshik’s ambition was far from worthy of being executed. He’d have to drain this whole city dry to warrant that type of attention. No – this moment was merely about sustenance.  
  
The thought of having Hakyeon’s honey tanned skin pressed against his teeth was becoming more of a problem. He wanted to be good, only taking what he needed out of necessity, but he’d slipped up with that kid – Taemin. A part of the vampire felt betrayed by Jaehwan, simply due to the fact that Hakyeon existed in the barista’s lifetime, which was a perfectly rational, innocuous reason, in his opinion. Wonshik was so impossibly jealous, possessive by nature, a real bastard to ever get entangled with.  
  
Most things Wonshik yearned for wound up dead and it was in death, that he felt secure of the fact that he’d been hated, but also loved. It was a wholesome feeling, yet the thought of killing Jaehwan removed the color from his pretty world, squashed the butterflies from his stomach. Instead, he was filled with disgust.  
  
Death would not suit Jaehwan. Not one bit. Not now and possibly never.           
  
Heading in the direction of Hakyeon’s office, Wonshik walked at a leisurely pace, pulling the other’s scent deep inside his lungs. Hakyeon smelled as good as he looked, like cinnamon spice and vanilla bean. All humans had their own definable taste and smell, subtle notes that was differentiated by diet. Diabetics probably suffered the most casualties. When Wonshik reached the door, Hakyeon was already printing out the barista’s address.  
  
What a well-behaved boy.    
  
Wonshik took note of the precise and orderly nature of the room. The shelves were lined with keen precision, not a single item out of place with identical width, height, and spacing. Various candles and pictures sat evenly atop each surface. The desk was well organized with stationary and pencils in neat rows. Wonshik saw the telling signs of an obsessive compulsive disorder, with maybe a touch of mysophobia. Everything of Hakyeon’s must be kept clean and immaculate, including himself.  
  
The only way to achieve such levels of perfection was with control.  
  
Wonshik closed the distance, abrupt and there in Hakyeon’s space, positively suffocating. He snatched the address from the human’s grasp in one seamless motion and held it up between his fingers, “Can you forget about this?” The younger nodded somewhat dazedly, expression vacant. Once the deed was done, he eased up on the thrall, and tucked the paper away into the pocket of his coat, “So good for me, Hakyeon.”  
  
Supernatural forces or not, there was a raw tension between them, so thick and stifling that Hakyeon could hardly breathe. Wonshik felt it, too – the unsettling pull bringing him closer, until there was little room left between himself and Hakyeon. There was something deeply satisfying about a human surrendering. The crystal blue of Wonshik’s eyes glowed more vibrantly as he further gave into his natural instincts, the hunger. He spoke in an even tone, which belied the maddening thirst itching away at his sanity, “I want you to use me. Show me what it’s like when you let go.”  
  
The height difference wasn’t much, Wonshik being taller, but Hakyeon still felt incredibly small, effeminate in the other’s presence. Aside from that, the offer being presented was daunting and he needed for everything to slow down. Even with time, he knew that it would be impossible for him to fully grasp the situation. Carefully, he rested his palms against the hard, cold line of Wonshik’s chest. It was no different than touching an ice sculpture, bloodless and freezing – like a corpse, just like he’d cautioned to Hakyeon earlier.  
  
“You have them, too,” Hakyeon murmured, as he took in the scatterings of Wonshik’s scars, and could feel the raised skin beneath his fingertips. They were shiny and pale, wounds from a long time ago. Hakyeon found them to be more interesting than the various tattoos around the area of each mark, as though put there to distract from, or to cover them up completely.  
  
_‘You have them, too.’_  
  
Wonshik found what Hakyeon had meant fairly quickly. The human’s scars were in an obvious place. He grabbed hold of Hakyeon’s hands and held them in front of his eyes. The back of each palm was covered in fresh pink scars, blistered in no particular pattern. They stood out prominently against Hakyeon’s golden skin and it made the vampire’s stomach twist in a manner that he was all too familiar with.    
  
He recalled the facility, where he’d been dying as a moth under an oppressive light. Wonshik’s living quarters consisted of four white walls with a camera that always blinked red. He’d been bled dry, too weak to ever hope to heal, each wound kept fresh – burned until his mind went numb, carved into in front of merciless spectators. He often wondered if their curiosity was ever satisfied, but alas, Taekwoon hadn’t permitted them to live long enough for him to make such an inquiry.  
  
He brought Hakyeon’s curled fingers to his mouth, intentions seemingly pure, while the other man remained oblivious to the fact that behind Wonshik’s soft lips was a set of razor sharp fangs – a genetic trait that existed for the sole purpose of tearing into the human body, to drain it of its life source with ease. The purposeful breath from the vampire’s lungs reached Hakyeon’s sensitive skin, as he started pressing firm kisses to each of Hakyeon’s torn knuckles. The action made his heart race, the sound of it drumming loudly in Wonshik’s ears.  
  
Hakyeon swallowed thickly, eyes following Wonshik’s lips move over his skin, before he answered, “I make a lot of candles. Accidents are bound to happen.” He was held in a state of perpetual overwhelm, feelings tight in his throat. Take what he wanted and use Wonshik, who was dark and wildly attractive, yes, but he was still a complete stranger. A stranger who was currently mouthing at his scars with such tenderness that it almost made him weep.  
  
“So, you run the risk of scarring yourself by choice then? How foolish…” Over candles, no less, Wonshik wanted to berate him, but he kept his mouth shut, releasing their hands to stroke his thumb over Hakyeon’s cheek with a gentleness that did not match the unmasked look of resentment on his face. “Now to make you forget about control.”      
  
The moment Wonshik advanced, it went unseen – a flash of blurred movement that had Hakyeon gripped tightly by the roots of his soft, dark hair. He gave a startled gasp at the sudden sting of pain, but made no plans to struggle. A low growl, not-quite human, made the hairs on Hakyeon’s arms and neck stand on end. His head was yanked as far back as possible, with Wonshik following the slender arc of his body.  
  
Hakyeon stared up at the ceiling of his office, wincing at uncomfortable angle at which he was being restrained. Wonshik was like a shadow upon his skin, looming over him, and everywhere all at once – taking in sharp inhalations along the sensitive skin of Hakyeon’s throat, behind his ear, in his hair. Even the heat from the vampire’s gaze felt like a tangible caress, an unspoken promise to swallow him whole. Gently, Wonshik brushed their mouths together and it was with such a slow deliberateness, that it left Hakyeon malleable and aching – when he was forcibly shoved against his desk.  
  
He was quick to brace his hands on top of its smooth surface, waiting with bated breath. The shop was far from his mind, not part of his current reality, lost to him in a dream that was muddled and would never become. All he could think about was how he wanted more, so much more. Wonshik leaned so that his chest was flush against Hakyeon’s back, strong arms wrapping around his slim waist to work the buttons of his shirt open.  
  
“If you won’t take from me, then I have no other choice, now do I, Hakyeon?” He yanked the fabric down past his arms in short, effortless tugs – exposing the smooth skin of Hakyeon’s neck and shoulders. _Fuck_ , he was gorgeous. Wonshik practically salivated at the sight before him, pressing his lips to the shell of Hakyeon’s ear, “No other choice, but to take for myself. I worry for you though, since I always tend to take too damn much.”  
  
Hakyeon shivered harshly, inclining his head to better feel Wonshik’s cold mouth, “Please.”  
  
Wonshik loved it. He loved the fact that the human had no idea what he was begging for, not really. He leaned his full weight against Hakyeon, forcing the younger’s hips to meet the desk more acutely – the rough friction earning him a throaty gasp in response. The scent washing over him then was one of Wonshik’s favorite cocktails, a heady mixture of both fear and arousal that left him intoxicated, and heated.    
  
“Please, _what_?” He curled his fingers around the front of Hakyeon’s throat, careful not to apply too much of his strength – only enough to get the point across. “Do you really think that you deserve to get fucked by me?” Wonshik emphasized each word by pressing his half-hard cock into the curve of Hakyeon’s ass, the firm rocking of his hips incessant and maddening. “Do you still think that you’re the one in control here, Hakyeon?”  
  
“No…” He answered, voice dripping with shame, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath Wonshik’s fingers when he swallowed thickly, mouth going dry.  
  
“Good. Because you’re not.” Wonshik said as he wet his lips, continuing to tease his words over Hakyeon’s ear, whispering despite the fact that they were alone. “I’ve wanted to taste you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Your skin is so beautiful.” A violent chill coursed throughout Hakyeon’s body, involuntarily pressing against the wall of Wonshik’s chest. The vampire placed an idle hand on his stomach, keeping Hakyeon still as he continued rutting against him. “You behave so well for me. You’ll accept every ounce of pain that I give to you, won’t you?”         
  
Wonshik didn’t require an answer, knowing full well that the younger enjoyed the infliction, had practically careened into it, and quietly begged for more. A chaste kiss to the side of Hakyeon’s neck made his shoulders tense up, breath hitching in his throat as liquid heat unfurled inside the pit of his stomach. He felt desperate, cock so painfully hard, and crushed to the steel of his desk. It was too much and yet too little.  
  
The back of Hakyeon’s shoulder was soft and warm against Wonshik’s mouth, a delicate silk beneath the needlelike sharpness of his fangs. He stretched his jaw over the smooth expanse of skin, piercing through it with familiar ease.        
  
Hakyeon moaned softly, dragging his short nails along the surface of his desk in an attempt to placate the throbbing pain he felt then. Growing still as a trickle of something – his own blood, Hakyeon realized, started to trail slow and warm down his back, before Wonshik caught it with the tip of his tongue, greedily lapping it up. Hakyeon should have been mortified and sick to his stomach, yet all he could do was revel in each violation. The aggressive pulls of Wonshik’s mouth was accompanied by wet, hungry noises that shot straight to the younger’s woefully neglected cock. Hakyeon shuddered weakly, feeling the sticky mess of pre-cum forming inside his briefs.     
  
It was true that he feared being sullied and humiliated, yet there he was – allowing Wonshik to lick and mouth at his wound, to firmly grind his thick cock into the swell of his ass, to openly feast on him as though he were the vampire’s last meal. The only thing Hakyeon could do was close his eyes in bliss and surrender himself completely – trapped beneath Wonshik’s teeth and the grip that remained at the front of his throat.    
  
Hakyeon whimpered, blinking away at tears that would not fall, “Please, aahh, more…”  
  
Wonshik was more than willing to oblige him, sinking his fangs into a choice spot along the curve of Hakyeon’s neck. He groaned inwardly, moving his hand to the line of the younger’s jaw, and pushed two fingers into the warmth of Hakyeon’s mouth to stifle his cries. A particularly sharp thrust of Wonshik’s hips left Hakyeon trembling, overwhelmed by how close he was to coming right then and there. Fuck – it was happening, pleasure flooding through him as intensely acute as the pain felt – releasing inside his briefs.      
  
The devastated state of Hakyeon’s body was evident, arms shaking with effort from coming hard and sudden, breathing ragged. If his goal had been to hide it from the vampire, he’d failed.      
  
“Please, please, oh, pretty please.” Wonshik mocked, as he withdrew his fingers, and wiped the saliva on the side of Hakyeon’s dark slacks. “I can smell you, Hakyeon. I can smell the cum in your pants.” Wonshik was quick, shooting his hand out to pin Hakyeon by the back of his neck – cheek to desk. His chest heaved laboriously, melting to the sardonic lilt of Wonshik’s voice, “I don’t recall telling you that you could come.”    
  
Hakyeon’s apology was immediate, “I’m sorry.”    
  
“No, you’re not.” Wonshik murmured, nipping at his own finger, and smearing thick droplets of blood against the bite marks he left on the human’s neck and shoulder. He watched the wounds close up, contented with the way Hakyeon’s sunshine settled all nice and warm in his veins. Anger and thirst finally tempered to a level that was tolerable. He rolled his hips against Hakyeon once last time and reveled in the soft hisses he’d earned, the friction too rough against the younger’s sensitive cock. “But you’re going to be very sorry, very soon.”  
  
The next moment went by for Hakyeon at an unnatural speed, brought from the surface of the desk to his knees. He stared up at Wonshik expectantly, adjusting to the scenario better than the vampire would have initially presumed. It would be a lie to say that Hakyeon didn’t peak his interest, the thrall only used to ease Hakyeon into providing him with the address, yet the human actively yearned for his touch without influence.  
  
If not for the blonde barista haunting his every thought, tormenting him in ways that the slayers could never hope to achieve, he might have considered taking Hakyeon – claiming him as his own, but Jaehwan’s existence held such power over him. It was pathetic that the only thing he feared anymore was the human held within the cage of his cold, dead heart.  
  
“You’re making things difficult by being so eager,” Wonshik said, as he ran his fingers through Hakyeon’s soft dark bangs, pulling them away from his eyes. The gaze that awaited him was dark and feral almost, yet the human’s current disposition was that of a submissive. Very interesting. He gripped Hakyeon by the roots of his hair, tilting his head back far enough to feel the cold air from Wonshik’s lips. “It’s salacious of you, Hakyeon, but it also makes me wonder how often you’ve found yourself choking on another man’s cock? Only sluts act like you do.”  
  
“I’m not…” Hakyeon was stammering, skin flushed a deep pink that was very becoming, Wonshik decided. “I’m not a slut.”  
  
“Aren’t you?” The vampire taunted, as he pulled his belt free with a tug, and trailed down the zipper at the front of his leather shorts. He leaned his hips towards Hakyeon, using the hand in his hair to bring him closer onto his knees – and watched as Hakyeon pulled him from his boxer briefs, cock thick and heavy beneath long, tan fingers. The human licked at his dry lips, before leaning forward – interrupted by Wonshik’s derisive laugh, “You look like a cockslut to me.”     
  
The air between them felt charged, the weight of the insult resonating within Hakyeon, perhaps to a shameless degree. He didn’t bother with denying it this time, perfectly aware of how obvious he was being. It was partially true anyway – he was eager to taste Wonshik in his mouth, confident in the fact that he was skilled, and in desperate need of reclaiming some semblance of control.  
  
They maintained eye-contact when he pressed the head of Wonshik’s cock to the line of his soft, plush lips, flicking his tongue over the glistening pre-cum that was nestled there. Even Wonshik’s most intimate parts were like ice in contrast to the heat that swallowed him whole. Hakyeon gauged the vampire’s every reaction and was met with stoicism, the vampire offering him nothing. He curled his fist around Wonshik’s incredible length, bringing him as far as he could go and with difficulty, despite how relaxed he felt.  
  
It was when Hakyeon started pulling away, left connected by a clear string of saliva, and panting for air that Wonshik brought him forward with the bruising grip on his hair – forcibly pushing his cock to the back of Hakyeon’s throat. Several times, he’d held the human down until his nose reached the coarse hairs of his pubic bone – delighting in the tight constriction each time Hakyeon choked around him.  
  
“Such a pretty fuckhole,” Wonshik practically sneered, replacing his cock with three of his fingers. Hakyeon whimpered softly at the abuse, lips swollen red and sensitive, slipping his tongue between Wonshik’s slender digits. The tears collecting at his lower lashes didn’t reflect the arousal he felt then, physically starved for more, and knowing that he wouldn’t receive it. This wasn’t about Hakyeon or his needs.     
  
He thrust back into the warmth of Hakyeon’s mouth, grabbing at the side of the younger’s face with fingers slickened with spit – guiding the tight suction of his lips to his cock, again and again, using him however he pleased. The steady strokes of Hakyeon’s fist coupled by the velvety softness of his tongue, swirling wet and sticky around his cock made the muscles in Wonshik’s thighs twitch in a familiar way.  
  
With fresh blood in his veins, on the brink of his release, Wonshik elicited a moan that was guttural – placing a hand on top of Hakyeon’s, changing the pace and the angle of his wrist – mimicking the way he liked touching himself. Just as he was spiraling, he reeled his hips back far enough so that he was coming on Hakyeon’s face – shoving his cock to the back of his throat, until he was empty.  
  
“Now you’re dirty inside and out,” Wonshik said, as he wiped a spot of his cum from Hakyeon’s cheek, and roughly smeared it across the human’s trembling lips. “Cockslut.”     
  
Hakyeon was stunned into silence, cock aching painfully inside his briefs, which were utterly ruined now. He took a moment to catch his breath, shaking the harder he tried remaining calm about participating in such sinful debauch. There were questions that needed answering, important matters that needed to be discussed, but where to begin? Did he really want to know?  
  
Wonshik crouched down in front of Hakyeon, scooting a box of tissues between them. There were no words of gratitude, when the human ripped a few pieces from the cardboard, and scrubbed Wonshik’s release from his face.  
  
Hakyeon found himself asking, despite his better judgment, “You’re not human, are you?”  
  
The vampire tilted his head, eyes alight with amusement, “What do you think I am?” A heavy silence fell between them, so starkly profound that Hakyeon lost his nerve. “No. Not human,” Wonshik confirmed, as he stood up. It never gets old, the reveal reminding him of that BBC show he used to watch. He felt like the Doctor, showing the inside of his Tardis for the first time. Unfortunately for Wonshik, the reactions were not of wonder or amazement. It was quite the opposite and in Hakyeon’s case, incredulity.  
  
Wonshik solidified Hakyeon’s quiet beliefs, the truth – using his speed as he left, abandoning the human with his thoughts. He’d been there and then gone in a flash, blinking out of existence. Wonshik didn’t stop, until he was a few blocks away from BeanCha’s, walking briskly down a nearby alleyway that was narrow and empty. Alone and with Hakyeon’s blood in his system. He dropped his back against the building, watching the gentle fall of chunky snowflakes. Like all things temporary, doomed to expire, it was beautiful to Wonshik.    
  
Closing his eyes, he peered into Hakyeon’s memories with a singular purpose, finding Jaehwan. It was Hakyeon who’d interviewed him for his current position. The barista’s hair wasn’t blond, but a dark brown and he was wearing a pair of prescription glasses. He’d rightfully donned a suit for the occasion, but there was an unmistakable speck of blue paint on the collar of his shirt. Hakyeon noticed.  
  
Wonshik learned through their interactions that Jaehwan was an artist, a serious one at that, and pursuing a career in modern art. The humorous caricatures on Jaehwan’s blog had come off as a hobby, not a passion. Wonshik would have been wrong, which was an unnerving sentiment. He pressed on to late night conversations, intimate ones that he almost felt guilty for intruding upon. It appeared that Hakyeon relied heavily on Jaehwan, confided in him more than – what’s his face? Hongbin…?  
  
The vampire’s musings seized the moment he stumbled on employer and employee locked in a questionably long embrace, both inebriated at a Chuseok holiday party – Jaehwan’s body pressing firmly to Hakyeon’s, the barista’s laugh teetering off the walls of his mind, echoing. Jealousy waved its hand at Wonshik like an old friend. It made him feel hot and angry in places he was frozen.  
  
He sifted through more memories, searching for anything that would imply a relationship. He wanted to know what made Hakyeon’s blood burn, if that person was _his_ Jaehwan. His fingers twitched, watching as Hakyeon slapped Sanghyuk square across the face. The cursed human, the one tied to his brother, serving out his punishment for the rest of eternity. It was such a waste. Hakyeon desired someone he couldn’t have in the end, since Taekwoon would never allow it. Pity.  
  
He reached into the pocket of his coat, retrieving the folded up piece of paper. Wonshik wouldn’t have to worry about missing Jaehwan. Not ever again.

* * *

I never leave notes at the bottom, now do I? I just wanted to give you all a heads up. My friend has requested a Chasang fic for her drawing. The next update for this story could take a little while, though hopefully not as long as it did this time.  
  
If you’d like to come yell at me on Twitter, please feel free to do so [here](https://twitter.com/moodring89).


	6. True Calling

**A/N:** Hey guys. This took less time to write, than the previous chapter. Thank god for empanadas. I went back to chapter four and fixed the ending if you wanted to go back and check it out. Again, thank you so much for the subscribers, kudos, and comments. They’re scarce, but appreciated.  
  
**Chapter pairing:** Taekwoon x Sanghyuk    
  
_‘But I’ve tried to say,  
Babe, I’m gonna ruin you,  
if you let me stay.’_ – **Marina and the Diamonds**

* * *

Slay Girl, Slay

* * *

Chapter Six: _True Calling_  
  
The snow was beginning to stick to the sidewalks, the cold wind tearing through the jacket she’d borrowed from Hongbin’s closet. It was big and warm, not that she felt any true sense of comfort from it. She followed beneath the shop lights on the boulevard, most businesses were closed this at this time of night, but not BeanCha’s. If it wasn’t for the task at hand, she would feel utterly lost – the day’s trauma leaving her shaken in terrible, newfound ways.  
  
The ‘Closed’ sign confused her, since all the lights were on, and Hakyeon would never agree to such a thing. The city was constantly awake, known for its nightlife and the shop itself was settled between two clubs. Yeah, there was no way. She pulled open the door with little surprise, wondering if Hakyeon simply forgot to switch the sign either running to the bank, or while he was on lunch.  
  
_‘Tell Hakyeon…’ Hongbin gripped her arm in an attempt to stable her, pulling her attention back to him. ‘I need you to tell him...’_  
  
She closed her eyes for a moment, teeth digging into her bottom lip when it trembled. It would be too much effort to cry, not to mention completely useless, and would only serve to worsen her headache. Even if she looked as dead as she felt, she would still do her best to keep it together. Hongbin made her promise him.  
  
She called throughout the empty store, “Hakyeon?”  
  
A noise coming from down the hallway did little to faze her. Christ knows that everything was off and yet her guttural instinct told her that there was no real danger here. Hakyeon’s office door was left slightly ajar, when usually it was kept closed and locked.  
  
“Hakyeon…” she said again, as her hand pressed the door into the wall behind it. The boss working nightshifts was at his desk. The expression on his face was distant and unreadable, as he stared into the blank side of what appeared to be a tissue box.  
  
He was slow to tear his eyes away from it, “Hey.”  
  
She knew that she should ask, she really should, but she couldn’t – she didn’t think she could handle learning about whatever hurt that was strong enough to defeat the great Cha Hakyeon.  
  
“Hongbin won’t be able to make his morning shift,” She said, swallowing thickly against the knot in her larynx. Hakyeon stirred at this, if only minutely. It was in question, eyebrow raised to regard her, waiting for a reason. “He wanted me to tell you that it’s a family matter and that it’s personal.”  
  
Hakyeon scoffed at that, a small burst of air that left him shaking, “Thank you for letting me know.” The same excuse as this morning. It was shitty then and it was even shittier now, especially upon hearing it from someone else. Oh, well. It was unusual for Hakyeon to drop something so easily, but he did not feel the pressing urge to call.  
  
He didn’t feel much of anything at the moment.  
  
Then he spoke, mechanically, “I’m thinking about training Hwasa and Jaehwan for manager positions.” Hakyeon would have benefited from being reasonable a long time ago, but the change stemmed from his own bout of selfishness. He needed time, having just washed vampire cum from off his face less than an hour ago. He took the box of tissues in front of him and finally placed them in the garbage beside his desk, out of sight.  
  
She nodded short, too much movement sending a sharp pain to her head, “I think that’s a smart move. Jae would be happy and Hwasa does a lot, so it makes sense.” She couldn’t help herself. “You and Hongbin need to take a break too sometimes.”  
  
It was difficult for him to admit it, especially as the owner.  
  
“Yeah. I know.” Something seems to break him. Maybe it was the abnormal flow of what should have been a relatively normal conversation. That brief touch of normalcy was almost enough to placate him, so much so that when he finally looked at her, he was able to see that she was troubled, too. Perhaps just as bad, if not more than whatever he felt with his own predicament. “Are you okay?”  
  
“No,” she said, since there was no harm in telling the truth. It was a little odd, talking to Hakyeon so freely. Even while she worked beside him, always on high alert of being fired, convinced that he couldn’t stand her – she’d never felt as close to him as she did in that moment. A moment that left them both painfully exposed. It hadn’t felt strange at all when she said, “And neither are you, but whatever it is for us, it’ll be okay.”  
  
He nodded, which was the kindest gesture that she was going to receive. It was all she needed, really. After bowing out her goodbye, she closed the door to his office, and stepped out into the cold, drawing the coat’s hood over her head. The street was noisy, until she did herself the favor of blocking it out. A red duffle bag rocked against her hip, as she picked up the pace.  
  
_‘Listen…’ Hongbin said, brown eyes unfaltering, holding her still as she swayed. ‘Hey, stay with me.’ He touched the side of her face, drawing her in closer. ‘I’m your watcher. You need to listen to me now. After you see Hakyeon, I need you to bring this to the cemetery. There’s a tomb. It’s a big son of a bitch, real big. Deep at the center.’  
  
_ The Victorian house she currently resided in could be seen from where she stood – right outside the cemetery. No stonemasons, no visitors, just the stark night, and winter chill. She hadn’t dared to come back since Sister Clara, not even to replace the flowers, or to leave behind some food. That was how she dealt with things, by avoiding them.  
  
Snow crunched beneath each step, following the path that would hopefully lead her to the heart of the cemetery. Right now, it was all she had left.

* * *

 

**[One hour ago]**

_‘Mouth is alive with juices like wine. And I’m hungry like the wolf…’_ _  
  
_ A thick white smoke started to plume from the hood of Hongbin’s truck. He detected the poignant scent of an oil leakage. That’s…fucking dangerous. The muddled sound of Duran Duran was still carrying through him, loud and electric. He felt it a lot less than the whiplash from the collision, which had sucked by the way, despite wearing his seatbelt like a good boy. Hongbin knew that he had to be fast, faster than the vampire, which yeah right. He tried clearing his head first, reaching for the red duffle bag in the passenger seat, and unzipping it.  
_  
Oh, fucking hell._ _  
  
_ He sat back against the seat for a moment, coughing violently from the smoke inhalation. It felt trapped in his throat, the air becoming thicker, and unwise to breathe in. He covered his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and roughly jerked the door handle. It swung open heavily, digging deep into the dirt. Hongbin knew that he wasn’t ready to move, but he pushed himself anyway, having been given little choice.    
  
The watcher reached inside the bag and closed his fist over the handle of the flashlight, and aimed it directly at the tree where Taekwoon was in the middle of healing. The abrupt sputter of blood painting his pale lips was proof of it. He growled low when Hongbin shined the massive UV light on him, the crisp sound of his skin burning like meat on a grill.  
  
“Long time no see…” Hongbin leered, bringing his unoccupied hand to his side. He might have fractured a rib or two. He sucked in a painful breath, trying to not be so apparent about his discomfort. “You should know, but I don’t usually call after the first date, and I sure as fuck don’t do random visits.”  
  
Hongbin staggered further onto his lawn, maintaining a precise distance. Too far away and Taekwoon would escape, too close and Taekwoon would kill him. Ultimately, it was the same fate. The front door to Hongbin’s house opened and the watcher called from over his shoulder, “Come and take a good look at what he is.”  
  
‘Of what we are,’ he thought, trying to imagine what it would be like, seeing this from his slayer’s perspective. He’d rammed a car into what she probably assumed was still a human and said ‘human’ was now piecing himself back together again. She would be expected to do worse to Taekwoon and more of his kind. The vampire was their prey as much as they were his…  
  
Taekwoon watched her, although his words were pointed at Hongbin, “Was that all that you were taught, watcher? To be cruel? You wonder why we forced the WS into extinction.”   
  
The fall of the Watching Society was not something Hongbin’s father spoke about often. Distantly, he could remember a building that ran exactly like a company. He was so young then, impressionable, and curious. Every person his father introduced him to was kind, as he went from person to person, holding up his fingers to declare his age. He’d usually get it wrong. Sometimes he was four, sometimes he was three. He was five.  
  
Point was, they did not deserve to die.   
  
The truck moved with ease beneath Taekwoon’s hands and he winced once the pressure let up, the rest of his body finally able to heal from the inside. Despite its efforts, the UV light was burning his skin something fierce. He was being fucking barbequed.  
  
“It honestly smells like burnt vamp-dick,” Hongbin said as the girl stepped in close beside him. She wasn’t as easily amused. No, her expression was one of profound horror as she watched Taekwoon’s skin flake off his body, healing faster than he was being destroyed. Hongbin spoke gently to her, “There’s so much that I wanted to teach you, kid.”  
  
“Hongbin,” She started, not fully understanding the depth of his words, voice shaky and fearful. There was nothing he could do about it then, which was a damn shame. “The cops can…I mean…”  
  
“You know what he is now. We can’t call the cops.” ‘Not when we’re the exterminators,’ he thought, while he spared her a quick glance. “Listen, I need you to do a couple things for me.”  
  
She shook her head, declining the thought of him leaving her. “Whe – where are you going?”  
  
Taekwoon flashed beneath the light, in and out imperceptibly, and getting nowhere fast. He realized that he was properly stuck, seething, “I promised you death, Hongbin. The longer you waste my time, the longer I will draw it out.” _  
  
_ “First, you need to see Hakyeon…” Hongbin gripped her arm in an attempt to stable her, pulling her attention back to him. “Let him know that I won’t be able to make it to my shift tomorrow. Say that it was a family matter. He loves that excuse, trust me. It’s his favorite. Also make sure to tack on that it’s personal. That’ll make for a fun time.”  
  
“That’s something only an asshole would say,” she said, eyes back on Taekwoon again, and was not prepared for the storm she was met with. Oh, holy god. The smoke she pulled deep inside her lungs made her feel lightheaded, the back of her throat irritated and on fire.  _  
  
_ “Listen,” Hongbin said, brown eyes unfaltering, holding her still as she swayed. “Hey, stay with me.” He touched the side of her face, drawing her in closer. “I’m your watcher. I won’t let anything happen to you. So, focus. After you see Hakyeon, bring this to the town cemetery. There’s a tomb. It’s a big son of a bitch, real big. Deep at the center. Go there and wait.”  
  
“Please…” she breathed out, hands grappling onto him. “I can’t.”  
  
“You’re going to make me sick,” Taekwoon bit out, as he crouched down to the ground. The pain of the flashlight was bearable, but still uncomfortable. And if he were being completely honest, the situation was disturbingly intriguing. Hongbin was about to serve himself up in order to save her. Even so, it would just be for now, hardly worth the exchange since in the end it would cost them both their lives. “We don’t have all night, watcher.”    
  
Hongbin calmly threatened, “Princess, you keep speaking out of turn like that and I’ll drip holy water into your eyes like it’s Visine.” Taekwoon closed his mouth shut, because he knew that he’d get his chance any minute now. “I’m going to turn off the light, but first you have to promise not to harm her. You will take me and only me.”  
  
She cried out immediately, “What? No!”  
  
Taekwoon’s lips curved up into a pleasant smirk, “Deal.”  
  
“Excuse me, but no – no fucking deal.” She turned more towards Hongbin, curling her fingers into the front of his sweater, desperate to reason with him. “Are you insane?”  
  
“Kind of,” He said, as he gently removed her hand and placed it on top of the flashlight, keeping her grip steady beneath his own. The duffle bag was on the ground beside her where he’d deposited it a moment later. “What did I ask of you? Remind me again.”  
  
“Hakyeon, then the cemetery, but–”  
  
“Good.” He looked at her seriously, thumb adding pressure to the finger she had on the dial. It slowly lowered the intensity of the light that was burning into Taekwoon’s skin, until it faded out. Hongbin was grinning, the crack in his lip bleeding from the spread, “You’re gonna be great.” Just as their eyes met, a gust of air blew into her face, and Hongbin was gone.  
  
Gone.  
  
She smoothed her hair out, trying to rid of the tension climbing up into her shoulders, and at the back of her neck. A quiet sob left the deepest part of her chest and then nothing – nothing because it would hurt, and it would be useless. She scooped the duffle bag from the ground and shoved the flashlight inside, throwing the straps over her shoulder like a purse.  
  
The sound of police sirens were heard off into the distance. The shuffle of blinds from a few houses down had left zero doubt that the crash had been phoned in already. She hurried back inside Hongbin’s home and pulled a large winter coat from his closet, before going out the backdoor. She tracked through the yard, the grass dead beneath snow – she cut through weeds until she found herself on the main road.  
  
She tried not to think about what Taekwoon was doing with Hongbin, but after a moment of forced static, she’d returned to the unsettling thought. If whether or not her boss was in the basement, being subjected to the same mind tricks, or having the blood drained from his body. The vampire had almost killed her. What would he do to Hongbin?  
  
What could she do to save him? Where would she even begin? The way Hongbin looked at her, the way his words seemed final, she knew that he had no intentions of surviving. Hongbin knew that he would die.  
  
A part of her had felt it, too.  
  
She chose not to believe it.

* * *

Sanghyuk stepped warily into the hallway of Taekwoon’s apartment. The walls were blackened on each side, as though a fire had swept through, and had its way with the wallpaper. He also couldn’t help, but notice that the door to the basement was in pieces, scattered across the floor. Too bad nothing of any real significance had happened, for the vampire was still obviously well enough to call Sanghyuk away from work to come over.  
  
It was about that time anyway, to have Taekwoon’s blood.  
  
Taekwoon was in the dining room, silent as per usual, although noticeably more tense than Sanghyuk could last remember. One long, meaningful look of recognition and the vampire was there in front of Sanghyuk, hands unbuttoning the collar of his shirt in haste. Hongbin’s blood was strong in his nose, mixing with the scent Sanghyuk’s laundry detergent, and the faded spice of his cologne. All well and very appealing, however the vampire wanted something else, he wanted scones. He wanted fruit preserves. He wanted to be down at the local bakery.  
  
“What the hell happened to you?” Sanghyuk asked, as he braced his hands behind him, and grabbed onto the corner of the table for stability. “Your door looks like it exploded.”  
  
“The watcher in my bedroom is to thank for that,” Taekwoon answered, impatience climbing as he yanked Sanghyuk’s belt free. He had to be clearheaded when he faced Hongbin, no cravings, and no impulses. Taekwoon wasn’t sure if Sanghyuk would even be _able_ to _fix_ him. What a terrifying thought. The slayer’s blood threatened to ruin his every future meal for the rest of forever. He’d felt her blood waning from his system, dulling the high into nothingness.  
  
The thought of never drinking from her ever again...nope.    
  
Confusion flitted across the sharp pretty lines of Sanghyuk’s face, as he continued to allow Taekwoon to pull at his clothes, as if he had any real choice. “Watcher? I thought that wasn’t a thing anymore.”  
  
“There’s a slayer, too. Best part, she’s the girl who was renting from me.” That perked Sanghyuk right up, as the smallest of smiles tugged at the corners of his lips. A slayer was in town? The girl from BeanCha’s, wasn’t it? She might be able to take out Taekwoon and every other immortal disaster just like him. The vampire hummed, drawing pink lines down Sanghyuk’s throat with his blunt nails. “Does this news please you, Sanghyuk?”  
  
He turned in Taekwoon’s grasp, slowly mouthing the words across his cold, soft lips, “Yes. You know that it does.”  
  
“It won’t be easy killing me.” Sanghyuk knew – considering how Taekwoon walked into a WS building riddled with slayers and watchers alike, and lived to tell the tale. The fact that he’d seen Taekwoon out on a battlefield, participating in wars, because why the fuck not? Just for fun, just to prove that he could pick men apart by the dozens, and dismantle an entire army.       
  
“Fuck – just bite me. _Please_.”  
  
Taekwoon was quiet, as he roughly turned Sanghyuk so that he was bent over the table. It was a familiar position, but still uncomfortable. Taekwoon took hold of his arms, pulling the belt through its buckle, and securing the human’s wrists behind his back. When he was finished, he jerked at the leather until Sanghyuk was facing him – taller than Taekwoon, warmer, and so hideously delighted by the thought of his death.  
  
Sanghyuk was beautiful. Taekwoon had always found him so, as long as he behaved himself, and sometimes even on the rare occasions when he didn’t. Sometimes his pet was bad and defiant, the old Sanghyuk slipping through the cracks, daring the elder to make a move, and finally put an end to his long, miserable life. It was intoxicating – that helplessness, that loneliness.  
  
So, so beautiful, his Sanghyuk was…  
  
Taekwoon leaned into him, parting his lips against Sanghyuk’s, and licking into his hot, willing mouth. He dragged his teeth over the plump flesh of the younger’s lower lip, slow and sharp, tugging until the metallic tang of the human’s blood touched his sensitive taste buds. But nothing ignited, not like it used to – there was nothing to burn up his cold insides with, to satiate the ache at the back of his throat.  
  
Was he broken?  
  
He drew his dark hair back with his fingers with a breathy laugh, holding the strands at the top of his tense skull. Sanghyuk’s lips were now red and swollen, a delicate flush climbing his pale skin from his chest up to his ears. Taekwoon wanted to devour him whole. He wanted to hold Sanghyuk down and fuck into him excruciatingly slow. He wanted to fuck him hard and deep, enough to make him scream, until his throat was raw. He wanted to destroy his human, break him apart all easy like a toy. It was with bitter realization that the slayer fucking ruined this for him as well.  
  
Because now all he could think about was how badly he wanted her blood in his system. That high – that high that was unlike anything else he’d ever tasted, ever known. He wanted her beneath his hands, pressed up against his mouth. She’d been so torn watching him burn beneath the light and it was obvious that she’d been conflicted. Hesitation was not something a slayer usually felt for his kind. He wiped at the side of his mouth, as though it would rid of Sanghyuk’s sudden bitterness – the taste wasn’t what Taekwoon had been used to, had lived off of for centuries, had come to know, and enjoy for all its comfort.  
  
What had she done?  
  
The expression on Sanghyuk’s face was one of confusion, but he knew better than to question Taekwoon’s pause. He’d learned from experience that it would never come with anything good. He moved his fingers, the strap of his belt cutting into his circulation. The pain was faint in comparison to the warmth growing at the pit of his stomach. It was with shame that he wanted Taekwoon, craved him even. Perhaps it had come with his conditioning.      
  
The vampire used his speed and Sanghyuk’s entire body throbbed in pain when his body met the floorboards. He gasped, trying to calm his racing heart – knowing what it does to Taekwoon. It was typical for Taekwoon to be rough, but he hadn’t expected to hit the floor so violently. He stared, as the vampire advanced. The fluidity in which Taekwoon moved with was no different from a serpent – so smooth and graceful, so profoundly unusual that Sanghyuk would never fully get used to seeing it.  
  
Taekwoon removed the rest of their clothes, layer by layer – Sanghyuk’s shirt unbuttoned and pulled down past his shoulders. The younger winced at the pressure of his own body, the way it settled heavily against the bindings. The vampire cared little to correct it, appearing to instead relish in the small whimpers, and gasps that escaped into the quiet space. Once freed from his briefs, the younger’s cock curved towards the smooth plain of his stomach, fully erect and swollen, a thick line of precum smearing prettily against his heated skin.  
  
One of the vampire’s favorite places to drink from was the femoral artery. Oxygenated and enriching like any other artery, except for the fact that this particular spot was more intimate. Taekwoon danced his fingers across Sanghyuk’s inner thigh, the skin beneath his hands warm and milky pale, but not as ashen or translucent as his own.  
  
“Do it,” Sanghyuk exhaled shakily. “Please. I’ve…”  
  
“You’ve what?” Taekwoon asked, licking at his already wet lips. Feline eyes stared through Sanghyuk then. “You’ve behaved yourself well for me? You really think so? Was it not just a moment ago that you were fantasizing about your freedom? Of finally being free of me…”  
  
Sanghyuk swallowed against the lump in his throat and remained quiet, unable to deny the accusation. It would be pointless to do so anyway. They both knew the truth.  
  
“That’s what I thought.”  
  
Taekwoon spread the younger’s legs, placing them over his shoulders, as he settled in between them. He bore the weight like it was nothing, nuzzling against the flesh of Sanghyuk’s thigh. Kisses melted like ice beneath the heat of his skin, easing the human further into Taekwoon’s deception – since he knew that at any moment the vampire was going to sink his teeth in.  
  
A puff of cool air, needlessly cruel met the sensitive skin below Sanghyuk’s balls – his cock twitching when he felt Taekwoon lick a long, wet stripe over his hole. He trembled at the sudden contact, lower muscles already tensing. Then the vampire was back to pressing his cold lips to the tender skin of Sanghyuk’s thigh. The boy’s left leg fell from off his shoulder, giving Taekwoon the reach he needed to push his middle finger into Sanghyuk.  
  
“Please…” Sanghyuk gasped, closing his eyes against the heat he felt entering his body each time he was stretched wider, deeper. Hearing the human cry sparked something within Taekwoon, something that spoke to his inner monster – something that reminded the vampire of what he truly was, and what he loved doing. Even if it wouldn’t be her blood, it was still necessary. He added a second finger just as he sank his fangs deep into the soft, pale skin of Sanghyuk’s thigh.  
  
The blood ran hot and smooth down the back of Taekwoon’s throat and he roughly pressed his teeth against the human’s skin, releasing a low, unsatisfied growl that reverberated from within the concave of his chest. It wasn’t the same. He swallowed resentfully almost, sucking as hard as he could, drawing more of Sanghyuk’s blood into his body – mouth filled up with liquid warmth. He pulled back with a slow lick over his fangs, thin, sticky ropes of bloody saliva running from Taekwoon’s chin to the human’s slowly healing wound. It took everything in Sanghyuk not to shatter completely just from one dangerous look.  
  
He wanted to hide, cover his eyes – scramble for purchase, something to make the situation less – so much less intense than it was, but Taekwoon robbed him of his usual escapes with the leather around his wrists. Sanghyuk felt powerless, which was the theme of their exchange. No happiness, no control, but the pleasurable pain kept him compliant. Sometimes it almost felt worth it.  
  
The vampire withdrew his fingers, replacing them with the velvety muscle of his tongue. Each sharp, wet intrusion made the human squirm, the thrusts going in far deeper due to Sanghyuk being worked open. This was a rare form of personal hell. A cold hand closed around the base of his leaking cock, the younger whimpering in response to the familiar touch. He hated it and loved it all at once.  
  
“You’re so easy for me, Sanghyuk,” Taekwoon quietly murmured, once again filling Sanghyuk with his long, slender fingers, spreading the three digits wider inside of him, and thoroughly rubbing against his walls with clever strokes. A particular thrust had Sanghyuk keening, back arched almost painfully. “No one will ever know your body, as well as I do…” He felt the hot spill of Sanghyuk’s precum across his knuckles, a satisfied smirk touching the vampire’s too red lips. “No one will ever be able to make you melt as well as I do.”  
  
Sanghyuk was all about manners where it counted, whenever he was desperate, whenever he truly needed, “Master, please.” Those words had always worked like magic on Taekwoon. Always, disgust evident in the younger’s voice obvious or not. It must’ve been difficult for his human to be so kind as to properly ask for it. Speed, tremulous and dizzying pulled the breath from Sanghyuk’s lungs, when the vampire’s hands were gone from his body, and he was suddenly turned over onto his stomach with his ass in the air. He felt the blood slowly returning to his fingertips from the change in position.  
  
Taekwoon’s chest was like ice when it met the defined curve of Sanghyuk’s back. Chills prickling his skin when the elder pressed his mouth to his ear, “Please, what?”  
  
Sanghyuk was grateful to have his face shoved to the floor for once. He closed his eyes, voice hushed in all its shame. “Please, fuck me.”  
  
A rough tug on the belt brought Sanghyuk closer to Taekwoon’s hips. The thick head of the vampire’s cock teased against his hole, watching him clench around nothing – so eager and raw. So ready to be fucked and split apart on his dick. Taekwoon couldn’t help but feel that they both needed it tonight. He pressed his hips forward, fixated on the way Sanghyuk’s body swallowed him up, inch by agonizing inch, until the boy was filled to the brim.  
  
In the dark, unfamiliar space of Taekwoon’s bedroom, the watcher sat on his knees with his wrists tied above his head in a position of surrender. He was able to make out Sanghyuk’s voice, not at all surprised that the human had been called over. He mentally updated the Watching Society’s archives, confirming that Sanghyuk was just a blood pet, no more than the vampire’s chew toy. What else would he have been?  
  
The silence was eaten up then by harsh breathing, moans that belonged to the human, followed by the distinct sound of skin meeting skin.  
  
_Oh, goddamn it_ … _seriously?_ Hongbin hung his head, wincing at the tension in his arms, neck, and shoulders. The impact of his truck meeting Taekwoon’s body still rattled within his bones, like a tremor that would not stop unless it was met with equal force. A slight shift and he felt a sharp pain below his ribs, teeth digging into his bottom lip, as it spread throughout his body, as though raking over every raw nerve. It was the type of pain that left you feeling winded and nauseated well after it had passed.  
  
Hongbin wasn’t aware of time or how long it had been, until the guttural moans – loud and torn, had come to a stop, when the door to Taekwoon’s room was being opened. Hongbin thought that he was prepared for whatever might happen next, but he wasn’t. He watched as Sanghyuk was deposited onto the large bed at the center of the room, sheets pulled free with the human now beneath them. Hongbin had tried not to look, but the sight was so unusual. A shamelessly naked vampire, carrying in a bigger unconscious human, who was also equally as exposed, and tucking him away like a child.  
  
Beside the bed was a pole with an IV bag hanging from a steel hook. Instead of containing some form of parenteral nutrition, it was filled with blood. Hongbin noticed the setup earlier, wondering if it was meant for him. Now he knew that it wasn’t, as he watched Taekwoon easing a needle into one of Sanghyuk’s peripheral veins. The human didn’t even flinch, completely dead to the world. Hongbin would have thought it so, if not for the steady rise and fall of Sanghyuk’s chest.  
  
Interesting.            
  
Hongbin studied the way Taekwoon worked in ritual, and seemingly with care, “How did a lowly human manage to acquire the mercy of a vampire?”  
  
“You think Sanghyuk has my favor?”  
  
Hongbin pressed, “Is that not the case?”  
  
“What Sanghyuk receives is punishment, not a gift,” Taekwoon spoke, evenly. The gaze he shot Hongbin held no gleam or sparkle. No – in the dark, Taekwoon’s eyes stared back cold, and vacant. The more tragic part was how lovely the vampire grew by each passing moment. “It took awhile for him to learn that fact, but I think it’s settled in by now.”  
  
“Didn’t sound like a punishment was being handed out earlier.” Hongbin said, watching the way the vampire’s mouth twitched in quiet amusement. Yeah, _that._ “More like he’d won a free ride on the end of a frosty undead cock. Is misery supposed to come with consolation prizes?”  
  
Taekwoon looked at the watcher seriously, “Would you like to find out?”  
  
Hongbin laughed, once again met with the swift pain from the abrupt movement. “Pass. Although, I wouldn’t mind some of that intravenous therapy right about now…”  
  
“You want my blood, watcher?” Taekwoon raised a brow at him, curiously. Then he remembered that Hongbin was a special case. He wasn’t anything like his predecessors, which made him all the more dangerous. “I have to say, that was quick thinking this morning. Giving vampire blood to the girl. You must tell me who your supplier is.”  
  
“I like to think of it as being open-minded.” Hongbin teased the vampire with a wink that better suited Jaehwan. The scab of his busted lip reopened when he grinned, the dimples on both sides of his face prominent, before he flicked his tongue over the cut. “You probably wouldn’t know him. Besides, said vampire supplier is a dead vampire supplier. Ashes went everywhere. Ever been to the beach? It’s as bad as getting sand in your shoes.”  
  
Probably wasn’t wise of him to lie just for the sake of being spiteful.  
  
Taekwoon’s jaw clenched, perfectly white teeth clamped tightly together. The muscles there jumped, which was the only visible tell that the vampire was beyond pissed. Then it dawned on Taekwoon, “I believe I made you a promise.”  
  
“Yeah and it was cheesy as fuck, too. Something about ripping me apart limb from limb, but the end result is kinda the opposite of what I’m trying to achieve here.”  
  
“When I drink from you, I will get my answers. Unfortunately for you, I have no use for bantering. So, I see no point in helping you. There’s no reason to prolong this for even a second longer.”  
  
“Guess this is it for us then, huh, princess,” Hongbin said, leaning as far back as he could, restraints willing, to meet the empty look on Taekwoon’s face. He was a difficult one to decipher. Most vampires were of the complicated sort, since they lose most of their human shape, both mentally and physically.   
  
“Looks like,” Taekwoon murmured, closing the space between them, all grace and presaging slowness.  
  
Hongbin’s entire face turned sour the closer he approached, “Does your dick have to be out while you’re killing me?”  
  
Taekwoon placed a hand on the watcher’s shoulder, weighted and unsettling as it remained there. He paused as Hongbin tilted his head to the side, as though to give himself up. This was too easy. Taekwoon remembered his brother’s little predicament. How Wonshik had ended up in the basement of a WS facility as their pet project, where he was tortured for years upon years. All because of one sip.  
  
Surely Hongbin wouldn’t have…  
  
“A little eager there, aren’t we?” Taekwoon asked, close enough now that his cold breath reached Hongbin’s skin. The contrast was so harsh. Hongbin couldn’t hold back the shiver that coursed violently throughout his sore limbs. Fuck.       
  
The watcher’s mouth parted to answer, when a pale light pierced through the darkness of Taekwoon’s bedroom. Not even the shades could block it out, as it poured in through its edges. It was beautiful, the color of a falling star. Hongbin knew – he _knew_ exactly what it was, what it had meant, that it was a becoming – an awakening. Taekwoon suddenly flashed across the room, from one end to the other, the curtains roughly being drawn.  
  
Hongbin’s heartbeat was erratic and so, so very loud then. This was the moment he’d waited for his entire life, his plan in motion, all of the right pieces falling into place. And the light, it was stunning. It was hers, it was theirs, and his mother used to talk about this moment when putting him down to sleep. A watcher’s bedtime stories were different from the usual Dr. Seuss or Shel Silverstein.   
  
_‘When you see them for the first time, you’ll know. Boy or girl.’_ Hongbin could still hear his mother’s voice, a little softer now with the adrenaline running through his veins. _‘You’ll know, because they’re your chosen. You chose them before coming to this world.’_  
  
Taekwoon’s body remained still, as though enrapt by what he was witnessing, a vivid light, dazzling and unreal shot up high into the sky. A light so bright and fierce, it was a summer day in the middle of the night, in the cold of winter. It was warm and violent against his sensitive skin and eyes. It was so rare that Taekwoon felt anything and yet there he was, quietly and yet so thoroughly rattled, struck in a rare state of awe at the sight.  
  
The sight of a human girl becoming a weapon.  
  
A pretty little weapon that was meant to kill him.  
  
_‘When a slayer is awoken, they’re surrounded by a light. It’s like a beacon that goes far up, up, up into the clouds. I’ve only seen it once before, but, oh, Binnie, you’re going to love it.’_ Hongbin felt as the tears fell from his lower lashes, his eyes wide open. He was so overwhelmed by the fullness in his chest that it started to ache.  
  
“You surrendered yourself to distract me,” Taekwoon said, unable to tear himself away. “You knew that she would turn.”  
  
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Hongbin released a shaky breath, filled with relief. “It would have happened sooner or later. You couldn’t stop it.”  
  
“If it weren’t for you…” She would have been dead this morning. He didn’t bother with finishing his statement. Taekwoon was fast, grabbing for his clothes, and tugging them on. He had to stop this before it got further out of hand.  
  
The door to Taekwoon’s bedroom rattled as he left, in a blur to Hongbin’s human eyes. He knew where the vampire was headed and for once, he wasn’t concerned.  
  
Not one bit.

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Hi, Honey.

***On the original date of when I was going to post this, we lost an idol. Out of respect, I prolonged posting this chapter, until today. There are themes of this story that certainly wouldn’t help the mood for those who are hurt and saddened by the current devastating events. I hope everyone is taking good care of themselves, as well being attentive towards family, and friends who might need you. People don’t ask, ‘Are you okay?’ enough. We should throw it out there more. Don’t ignore the troublesome look on someone’s face. Don’t be quick to drop it. Ask, ask, and ask again. Sometimes someone else’s kindness can be disarming in like, the best way.**

* * *

**A/N:** Hello everyone. Welcome to chapter seven. In this chapter, we’re introduced to a new character and I’d like to speak about him a little. It was always my intention to write BTS members into this story. _Always…_ ***Alan Rickman’s voice***. I almost didn’t write BTS into this story at all. Why? Because people told me that I should write them in just to get more views for this story. I’m sure it was coming from a good place, but it made me not want to add any BTS members. This story should do well without them, you know? It’s a VIXX story. The suggestion was multiple times and it kind of offended me. Anyways, I do not intend on putting BTS in the tags. So, with that in mind, I feel better about going through with my initial plans.  
  
\- Thank you to those of you who do comment, leave kudos, bookmark, and subscribe. Sounds bad, but I tend to doubt myself and question on whether or not I should keep this story up. I either finish it or I remove it. I can’t stand having an incomplete work. So, for those who take the time to enjoy this story – I see you – I thank you so much. To be honest, I started feeling hopeless around chapter three, but with your support, this story has made it to chapter seven. That means a great deal to me. Thank you.  

* * *

**Happy Birthday to Kei!**

* * *

**Slay Girl, Slay**

* * *

_‘Feels like I’m falling into a world I can’t control,  
I hear it calling down in my soul.’_ – Ruelle  
  
Chapter Seven: _Hi, Honey_.  
  
Snow crunched beneath her steps, a consistent sound that grew pleasantly welcomed given the silence. When the wind started whistling, the high pitch of it was all too easy to block out. She needed something to grate, something to distract – to remind herself that everything between this moment and the next would be real. It’s really, _deep breath_ , really real. Hongbin was really captured by a monster. Wait, no, sorry. Taekwoon was a vampire. A vampire who was fully capable of hurting him, even killing him if need be, and the need, she imagined – would probably be deemed necessary, given what little she already knew about Hongbin’s captor.  
  
The vampire didn’t need reasons.  
  
She could hear Taekwoon, still somewhat haunted by the surprisingly soft lilt of his voice, so needlessly charming. It was an echo at the back of her head, bothersome and constant, as she replayed their intimate exchange from less than an hour ago. The curve of his full red lips, icy and cruel when he’d pulled them into a deceptively warm smile, _‘You wanted to die.’_  
  
The instant he said those words, they remained stuck without any hope of fading. She’d felt so ashamed of herself, but in a moment of sheer helplessness, where the struggle seemed as good as forfeit, she found surrender to be her only response. It was the last ounce of her control, something that seemed like a plausible decision at the time.      
  
Never again.  
  
The moon painted the surrounding stone in a pale, silver light. There were shadows casted by trees and aboveground graves. Cemeteries never bothered her before, not until Sister Clara, and most especially, now. Right the fuck now. Several times she’d almost reached for her hand-phone to call Jaehwan, maybe listen to some of his jokes or wild sexscapades. Actually, just thinking of what Jaehwan might do or say in this situation made her feel slightly better about it. He’d probably squawk at anything that moved and run away.  
  
A step – not one of her own pulled her away from her musings. It could have been anything: a person, snowfall from one of the overhead branches, a fucking vampire. You know, the now common usual.    
  
She unzipped the duffle bag at her side and pulled out Hongbin’s flashlight. It was heavy in her hand, as she pressed the dial upward to turn it on. The light was nearly blinding, until she focused it outwards down the path she was currently walking. The heat from her body was a visible steam in the cold air, her breath coming out in puffs. Illumination from the device made all that was still hidden from her view even scarier then.  
  
A familiar tug at her stomach caused her to wince, having blocked the sensation time and time again throughout her life. It felt like her guts were being twisted from the inside out. Some would call it instinct, if only it were that simple – if only ‘instinct’ for her was just an ordinary _feeling_ , and not this awful, physical pain.  
  
“Jesus,” she huffed, pounding at her stomach with a small fist, as though it would somehow help to alleviate the discomfort.  
  
A low noise, almost like a growl came from close behind her. She spun around fast with the flashlight, but there nothing was there, nothing that she could see anyway, because now she knew that she wasn’t alone anymore. It was possible that she never truly ever was since setting foot into the cemetery. Was this the outcome that Hongbin wanted? What exactly was in store for her at the center of the proverbial maze?  
  
It’d better be a goddamned cookie or [1986’s David Bowie](https://media.giphy.com/media/j52FsSMEJW3VC/giphy.gif), either or.  
  
Once she’d felt safe enough to turn back around, she noticed a new figure that she hadn’t seen there before, hunched over one of the funeral plots. It appeared to be human, perhaps a man in a suit visiting a relative – she _hoped_ , although the outfit looked a bit dirty, like he’d rolled around in the mud one time too many times. _Oh…_ She drew in a sharp breath and halted – or maybe it was more like he’d crawled his way out of a freshly dug grave.  
  
She shined the flashlight directly on the person, watching as they coiled up more like a creature, than an actual human. It tried shielding itself with the jacket of its suit, hissing as its skin started to sizzle much like Taekwoon’s had, but worse. It wasn’t healing as well as Taekwoon had or as fast, rather. She felt queasy causing it such great pain, knowing that it would be unwise if she stopped, but she did not want to continue.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, continuing to watch as it melted, until it eventually burned – bright flames sparking from where the light was being aimed steady. Its inhuman cries were loud, chilling her to the very bone, and filling her with an incredible amount of guilt, heavy and unbearable almost. Even killing bugs made her feel regretful, but now she was killing a human-shaped-vampire-thing. She wasn’t cut out for this.   
  
A part of her was still waiting to force-wake from this nightmare, so she could get the hell out before something bad happened.  
  
But something bad _did_ happen, because law of the universe – a hard shove to her back sent her flying a couple feet away from where she’d been standing. There was a sickening thud from when her body met the solid ground, the handmade flashlight making an even worse sound when it landed, its light flickering from dim to bright. She looked over to what had hit her, seeing another creature there, a vampire who didn’t seem quite as put together as Taekwoon.  
  
These pale beings were different in quality, growling instead of speaking, hunched over instead of standing. The blue veins beneath Taekwoon’s skin were visible, but theirs were black, and mostly accumulated towards their mouths. Their mouths were full of razor sharp teeth, instead of just the two canines. But the more terrifying observation was probably that their stone colored eyes held no pupils. They appeared to be blind, heads tilted as they audibly breathed in the air around them to smell and sense movement.  
  
Fuck to the naw.  
  
She crawled forward on her stomach, dragging herself to the flashlight that had been knocked out of her hand. Her right ankle was throbbing in pain, but she ignored it, as she pulled herself up onto her feet, and took off running – weaving through and around tombstones, hoping to make it to the center of the cemetery. If they were fast like Taekwoon, then she stood no real chance.  
  
But she wanted to try.  
  
Flashes of white could be seen just out of her peripheral, beside her – there were more than just two creatures now. A hand reached out, a hand with unmistakable claws. She screamed, too focused on what would have been a moment of capture, when she collided with a wall. She quickly pressed her back to it, turning around to see four wannabe vampires with their black drooling mouths and gray, pupil-less eyes. The one she’d used the flashlight on was there, half-melted, and deformed.  
  
They weren’t coming any closer, but why was the question. The flashlight was dead weight in her hand, as she shined it at them, but it did nothing. The light was too dulled by the damage from when she fell. _Fuck._  
  
A door opened from beside her, stone grating across stone, when an arm drew out. The stranger’s hand was attached to a goddamn crossbow. A bolt shot out, hitting square and true right into the chest of one of the creatures. Her eyes grew wide, chest heaving in a cold lungful of air. There was a long pause, where she thought the monster would simply rip the arrow out of its body, but the thing – it – it burst into dust. Its ashes were lifted into the air, carried off by the heavy wind.  
  
She blinked once, twice. _Okay._  
  
“Your turn,” said the voice of the mystery person holding the ( **fucking** ) crossbow. It was a male voice, but the rest of him remained hidden inside the tomb.  
  
“I don’t think I can…”  
  
“You can and Hongbin believes that you will, so let’s not disappoint him, hm?” One of the creatures leapt forward, causing the stranger to act promptly, catching it in its upper shoulder with a bolt. It was just shy an inch or two away from its heart, but at least it was enough to scare off two of the creatures, leaving them with only one remaining.  
  
“Did Hongbin ask you to meet me here?”  
  
The response she received was a weapon being roughly pushed into her arms by a persistent hand. The half-hidden jackass had already reloaded the next bolt for her. Gee, how nice of him. She stared ahead at the same creature she’d tried disposing of earlier and winced, holding the bow out and aiming it like it was a gun, not that she had any experience on the matter. It would be a mercy killing at this point, able to tell that the creature only stayed behind for the promise of blood. A majority of its body was still unhealed from the light. At least the other monsters had been wise enough to run, but perhaps the damage was too severe.  
  
“Goodbye.”  
  
She shot the arrow, but it missed completely.  
  
“Really? It’s practically standing there all nice and pretty for you. It’s an unmoving target,” the stranger mused, but all she could do was shiver from the cold. A cold she’d probably still feel even if she was thrown into a room kept at volcanic temperatures. Now she truly believed that she wasn’t cut out for this – most sane people wouldn’t be.  
  
She tried loading up another bolt, finding the task nearly impossible with such little knowhow and Chatty over there wasn’t being particularly helpful. Fuck it. She grabbed the bolt from where it had missed a couple feet away from the creature. She took a few guesses as to where its heart was located, and started stabbing blindly at the general area with an exasperated _‘ew’_ each time she failed.  
  
Chatty-Tomb-Douche laughed at her, “I don’t know whether this is adorable or just plain sad.”  
  
“Please, shut up.” She pierced through the creature one last time, watching as its skin flaked away, catching in the wind just like the other had done. “There, asshole. It’s done–”  
  
A light shot up straight from the earth, swallowing her whole. It was absolutely blinding – its warmth caressing her skin, seeping through all the cracks and crevices of her very _being_. The light itself had spilled from her eyes in rays of ivory. Her arms and legs slowly spread and the light followed her movement, stretching across the cemetery and beyond. The dhampyr ( _lesser vampires_ ) within its immediate radius burned to dust on contact. The wave of pure energy stretched over the country, across continents, all around the world.  
  
In the blissful moments of uninterrupted silence, an overwhelming sense of calm washed over her in a darkness that felt a lot like home. A home she’d never known or felt before, yet understood it instantly. Was this home? Her eyes started to focus, finding herself standing at the center of a broad stadium that was primarily made up of gold. It was like it was made for champions and every seat was filled, not a single one left to be unclaimed, and there were thousands upon thousands of them.  
  
“We’ve been waiting for you.”  
  
She quietly turned towards the strong feminine voice, finding herself oddly drawn to it. There was a woman standing there in a robe of flowing silks. She was absolutely stunning with her dark and thick hair braided over her shoulder, curvy lips a shade of rose petal pink, and eyes the color of emerald. Although she appeared to be delicate, the girl knew that this woman was anything but.  
  
The woman introduced herself, “I am the first.”  
  
She already knew, she knew – inside her head, her soul, her very bones, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking, “The first of what?”  
  
“All of what you see here, all of we are, of what _you_ are, is the symbol of humanity’s last hope. The name which was bestowed upon me was the first slayer.” The woman placed both her hands upon the girl’s small shoulders, gently pulling her in. “You, my dear, shall be known as the last.”  
  
She laughed humorlessly, “The last? That doesn’t even sound like a warrior name.”  
  
It sounded like a busy Saturday at BeanCha’s with no crew to lean on. She couldn’t have been named TheAssKicker™ or Raiser of the Nine Circles of Hell?    
  
The First stared at her then, “Your true name is your destiny. You may be the last and the only, but you will not be alone. Our strength is your strength. Our speed, our life force, our knowledge…is yours now.”  
  
“Ow…” she gasped short, losing her breath. Something was searing itself into her lower abdomen, hot and uncomfortable. It was the same spot where she usually felt pain caused by her wretched instincts. She pressed her hands against the burning sensation, tears stinging her eyes at the excruciating pain. It felt as though she were being carved into with a knife.    
  
A new presence was beside them, a soft voice speaking calming words to her. “I’m so, so proud of you.”  
  
The words hurt all over, more so than the current hell she was experiencing. She always wondered what her mother’s voice would sound like, what she would have looked like. There’d been days where she’d stood in front of the mirror, wondering. The voice that which she spoke with – curious of whether or not she sounded at all like her mother. She fought through the pain to finally confirm. Beautiful, like she’d suspected. Beautiful and perfect, a mother – her mother, a whole world that was stolen from her…  
  
The tears fell from the corners of her eyes, trailing down past her cheeks in a flow that seemed endlessly. She was almost afraid to speak louder than a whisper, as though the moment would startle and burst like a bubble. She asked, “Mom?”  
  
A long, shared look of happiness and sadness were exchanged between them. The contentment that followed after was so sweet, so pleasantly overwhelming that she hadn’t noticed that the pain had started to ease. This place was where she belonged, where she needed to stay.  
  
_Home._  
  
“This is all a bit fucking much for me,” Hoseok practically growled out, the firm hold he had on the slayer’s body grew tight.  
  
He’d easily caught her the moment she fell from the sky, having been suspended midair, until the beacon faded, and the light was gone. The young vampire cradled her against the wall of his chest, able to sense the raw power that hadn’t been there before. It hummed throughout her body like an electric current. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt or had seen for that matter. The power of slayers was terrifying, even for the undead.     
  
Hoseok picked up on the unmistakable presence of another vampire, a pureblood to be exact. Hongbin had said many _delightful_ things about Taekwoon. Although Hoseok was considered to be new to this whole vampire thing, give or take a couple hundred years, he wasn’t stupid enough to stick around long enough to become too familiar.  
  
“Jung Hoseok.” Taekwoon made no move of coming any closer, knowing full well that the probability of the baby vampire fleeing was high. “The council is looking for you, specifically Yoongi.” The pureblood eyed him knowingly, watching as the redhead froze upon hearing his maker’s name. How long had it been since he last heard it? Time truly sucked for Jung Hoseok. It wasn’t like decades of running had done him any favors, as he was still so affected by something as simple as a name. A name that still had the ability to make his skin crawl. “You’re the one who’s been helping the watcher? Giving him your blood? Killing the dhampyr?”  
  
“Yes. That’s me.” Hoseok jostled the girl in his arms for show, watching the way Taekwoon’s eyes followed the movement, openly testing the pureblood’s level of possessiveness. “How can I help you?”  
  
“Hand her over to me now and I won’t tell Yoongi where you’ve been hiding or the company you’ve been keeping. How bad you’ve been and Hoseok, you’ve been so very bad,” Taekwoon said, tilting his head to the side. A drop of the slayer’s blood echoed harshly in his ears, a pitter-patter that landed in the pure white snow. At her side, he could see a gash in her shirt like she’d been torn into by something. It must be her given name. He longed to see it, to lick the inscription clean with the point of his tongue. How Hoseok was able to maintain control, he had no idea. The young vampire was a fucking saint, apparently. “I can’t imagine having a maker like Yoongi. What the consequences will be once you’ve been returned to him. He doesn’t seem like the forgiving type.”  
  
“Hyung is the type to wear glasses just to look calculative and smart,” Hoseok joked, but he was honestly scared shitless. He’d never wanted to be turned, but Min Yoongi wasn’t into consensual decision making. Yoongi was a nightmare dressed in black Armani, from his glasses down to his Italian leather shoes. “In any case, Hongbin made me promise, whether he lived or died. So, let’s be reasonable, undead gentlemen and end this little tea party.”  
  
Taekwoon flinched, the muscles in his body responding – desperately needing to react, when Hoseok continued, voice sharp despite its cheeriness, “Besides, she’s not just a girl anymore. She will destroy you. She’ll destroy all of us.”  
  
_Ah, a vampire with a death wish_ – _great_. Makers had the power to control their children, to forbid them from ever hurting themselves. Hoseok wanted the slayer to grant him his wish, hence his cooperation with Hongbin, and vice versa. “And you’re fine with that I take it?”  
  
“Oh, more than you know,” Hoseok said, flashing Taekwoon a smile that took up his entire goddamn face, eyes turned upwards into twin crescents. “Bye for now, hyung.”    
  
The redhead flashed then, instantly gone, along with his slayer. Running after them would be useless now, where even a second of delay was a second too damn long to catch up. Perhaps that had been Hoseok’s intention all along, to say something so eerily fucked, that Taekwoon would become stilted in his thinking, thus stalling him. This was twice now, where someone was allowed to escape with her, saving her from him.  
  
He should make the dreaded call to the council, update Yoongi on the status of his runaway. Chances were they had already been well informed. The world had felt her awakening in a ripple that disturbed all undead and supernatural beings alike. He needed to corroborate a story – Wonshik, too. They needed reasons, excuses, and a whole goddamn timeline.  
  
Did he have to fix the watcher’s fucking window? Taekwoon closed his eyes for a long moment, jaw set firmly.  
  
He’d need to speak with his brother.

* * *

Wonshik stood outside Jaehwan’s apartment complex, taking in the sounds coming from within. A particularly loud couple a floor beneath Jaehwan’s was arguing about something hideously generic, _‘You were staring at the waitress’s ass the whole night’_. A few doors down lived a boy, very young, perhaps still in his teens blasting Radiohead and talking to someone in his game – _Overwatch_. Soft purring sounds, little cries, and mewls for attention was directly adjacent to Jaehwan’s apartment. There was more than one cat – he’d sensed four, but he knew that the actual number was beyond his count.  
  
**Perfect.**  
  
An older female voice called to them, “My babies, I’m right here. Tabitha, sweetie, share with your brother…”  
  
The vampire stepped inside the building, making his way to the top floor. He’d have to persuade Jaehwan into living with him. This place simply wouldn’t do – it just wouldn’t. It was an old, broken building with its inhabitants just as damaged. His human didn’t belong here.  
  
_‘Pussy palace’_ was the doormat that greeted Wonshik outside the door not too far from Jaehwan’s. At least the old woman had a sense of humor. He raised his hand to knock, when he heard the barista groaning and sniffling, as a sneeze jerked his sore body. Jaehwan was sick with one bitch of a cold. It was almost enough to break Wonshik’s black little heart.  
  
He proceeded to knock on the door, listening to the woman behind it shuffling around, asking her cats who on earth it could be at this time of night. There was a peephole below the apartment number and he imagined that she was examining him, given how close her heartbeat was then.  
  
“Who are you?”  
  
“Don’t you recognize me?” Wonshik asked, thrall seeping through his voice. He loved situations where he was forced to play a role. “It’s Wonshikkie.”  
  
“Who…” She was opening the door, because maybe for a moment, she might have recognized him – the thrall doing its work. Visually, she was older than what Wonshik was expecting. One eye was lost to cataracts and her teeth were replaced with dentures that could probably use a good soak with a cleaner tablet, long hair gray and brittle, skin worn like a loose mask of wrinkles. Wonshik was an instant fan.  
  
“Halmeoni, it’s me,” Wonshik said, watching as the swarm of cats started gathering by her legs, their long tails curling against them. “You were like this last time. I’m beginning to worry.”  
  
And the award for best bullshitter goes to…  
  
She squinted up at him, “But I don’t have any children, except for my cats.”                    
  
“Halmeoni~” Wonshik whined, a petulant pout gracing his pale lips. “Please! Don’t you remember last week? I bought a cake for us. We celebrated my birthday.”  
  
“Oh…” she trailed, her old voice trembling. “I think I remember it now.”  
  
“You said I could stay with you.” Wonshik stepped closer to her, but stayed within his limits. He still needed to be invited in. “You said it.”  
  
She huffed, “I did say it, you little shit. So, what?”  
  
Wonshik blinked, unsure of how to take that response. It was progress, at least. “Are you going to let me in?”  
  
“Yeah, alright, come on in, but take off your shoes, and don’t blame me for whatever happens to them once you do…” _Christ._ She was giving him whiplash.  
  
“I remember from last time and the many times before it,” Wonshik said, further playing into his own lie.  
  
“If I have no human children, how on earth…” The woman shook her head, deciding that not all paths needed to be linear, clear, or logical for the matter. “I must have taken you in out of kindness, but I don’t see why I would do such a thing. I’ve never been nice a day in my life and as you can tell, I’m not too fond of people.”  
  
“Halmeoni, you’ve been kind for as long as I’ve known you. Don’t say such things.” Wonshik sat in one of the recliners. The woman had three in total, the lot of them beat to shit, and scratched to high hell. The pungent smell of piss was the worst, considering Wonshik’s heightened senses. He once fed from a guy who potty trained his cats. This woman clearly didn’t exercise the same values, soiled litter boxes sitting at every corner of the room.  
  
A cough from Jaehwan’s lungs made Wonshik squirm in his seat, determined to put a fucking end to it. His boy was suffering.  
  
The woman left the room, a whistle from a teapot pulling Wonshik away from listening in. She returned with two cups, muttering on about how weird it was fixing two, instead of one.  
  
“I’m no good at conversation, unless it’s with myself,” she said, followed by a cackle that was practically made for pre-recordings. It would be later used in the horrible Netflix remake of _Hansel and Gretel_.    
  
He teased right back, “You’re perfect.” He allowed the cats to scent him, rubbing their tiny faces against his skin, and all over his clothes. Two of the bravest, well-fed cats were behind his head, resting at the top of the recliner.  
  
Impatient, Wonshik pulled out his phone and started searching all local delivery services. It was late, so most places weren’t open. He was curious of what kind of food Jaehwan enjoyed, wondering how well the boy would take receiving a whole truckload of it, none of which he would be able to eat due to his cold. The vampire brought the mug of warm tea to his lips, taking in the minty scent with a pleased hum, before swallowing it down.  
  
She made a decent cup of tea, he’d give her that. Points for halmeoni.  
  
The woman scoffed at the Android in Wonshik’s hand, “I’ve never had one of that who-its-device-traption…contraption thingies. I don’t even have cable. Never have, never will.”  
  
Well, that explained a lot.  
  
“Do you at least enjoy a night out at the theater?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“How about bingo?”  
  
“Fuck you.”  
  
“I’ll show you the ‘my heritage’ website. You’ll have a blast,” Wonshik promised, skimming his finger down a selection of flowers, looking for one kind in particular. A faint smile touched his lips when he found what he was looking for, and checked out his order. He’d paid extra for same day delivery. All he had to do now was wait.  
  
Easier said than done.   
  
“If you head out later, I’m gonna need a few things.” She rephrased, forgetting that she was supposed to be a mix between a wicked witch and the typical cat lady. “If you want a place to sleep tonight, you _will_ go out later, and get my babies their din-din. They’re running low and my Sylvester doesn’t do well on an empty tummy.”  
  
Wonshik could take a good guess as to which cat was Sylvester. He was a generously fluffy, short legged cat, and was almost identical fur wise to the Looney Tune’s own Sylvester, except this puss was giving off some serious Don-kkangpae vibes. Like he was part of some serious mafiosos shit. Made some bad decisions, sank some money, earned it back, got double-crossed by his brethren, lost good men, found love, and caught a bullet for it.  
  
After tea and very little discussion, the woman retired to her bedroom for the evening, most of her cats trailing after her. Wonshik still waited. Forty minutes passed, until he heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming from the stairwell. He could smell the flowers more prominently than the human carrying them. It was a full two minutes later that the courier made it to Jaehwan’s door. Wonshik strummed his manicured nails against the arm of the recliner.  
  
He waited some more and not well. The doorbell to Jaehwan’s apartment went off and the vampire was at the door, carefully twisting the locks – _waiting_. If his heart could beat, it would be pounding from anticipation alone. Jaehwan was coming, still awake due to being miserable. _‘Just a little longer,’_ Wonshik thought. He knew how to cure Jaehwan’s ailments. It would be so easy.  
  
Jaehwan opened the door to his apartment, voice somewhat torn as a result of his many coughing fits, “Hello?” There were four packages in total. One held a vase, crystal, and beautiful – Wonshik had a knack for these things and prided himself on his own good taste. The other three boxes were filled with dozens of [white snapdragons](https://1florist.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/snapdragonwhite.jpg).  
  
After the confusion was handled, Jaehwan confirming that his address indeed matched the information, he signed the slip. The courier left with a curt bow, not even bothering to offer Jaehwan a hand. Again, things were almost too perfect. Wonshik was presented with so many opportunities as of late.  
  
Concealing his smile, because it was fucking indecent at this point, Wonshik opened the door, trying his damnedest not to immediately stare at Jaehwan. Instead he looked at the boxes, hearing a sigh leave the younger’s lips.  
  
“Do you need some help…?” Wonshik finally glanced at Jaehwan and felt as his body went rigid at the sight. It was worse than he’d initially thought. The barista was so terribly pale, the color of his lips matching his skin. Blond strands of hair were stuck to his face, eyes falling every so often, while he audibly breathed in and out through his mouth, because his nose was stuffed. The boy was sweating, but the fever hadn’t been broken yet. Wonshik could see it in the way Jaehwan trembled, chills and shivers alike wracking throughout him.  
  
This was the first time Wonshik was seeing Jaehwan out of his barista uniform. Instead he was wearing a plain pair of gray joggers with an oversized sweatshirt, and boxy prescription glasses. The two of them were opposites in style, clashing on wildly comical levels.     
  
“What, I’m like, hallucinating in the hallway now?” Jaehwan asked, laughing at himself as he took Wonshik in with an expression that was marginally less horrified than the look he was currently receiving. His mystery fan was standing there in just a coat and leather shorts – bad choice of winter attire, complete with a [beret](https://data.whicdn.com/images/273104382/original.gif) that was hiding his fire red hair. He sighed, shakily, “This needs to stop.”  
  
Wonshik dropped his gaze back to the boxes on the floor, counting slowly in his head in an effort to calm down. He had to be careful with Jaehwan, his precious human, his sickly human who was apparently at the stage where he was hallucinating shit. The vampire asked curiously, “What have you been seeing?”  
  
Jaehwan was eyeing Wonshik up like he was starved, enjoying the defined muscles of the vampire’s inked chest, leading further down past his abdomen, and lower still where the thick beginning of a happy trail were halted by a pair of leather shorts hanging dangerously low off of Wonshik’s hips. So fucking pretty. The barista felt weak and delirious, “You.”  
  
Wonshik swallowed hard at that, wanting to know what he did with those ‘hallucinations’. How did he control Wonshik? What did they do? What did Jaehwan do to himself? Now was hardly the time. He tried again. “Let me help you with those boxes.”  
  
_‘Let me help you with your cold. Let me help you for the rest of my tortured, undead life.’_ It was all the same to Wonshik.  
  
“Yeah,” Jaehwan said, leaning his back against his doorframe. It just now dawned on him that perhaps Wonshik was real and if so, he’d just made an ass out of himself. “Yeah, okay. I mean, yes – sorry. You’re that customer I had the other day? Small world, huh…” The barista was rambling now, lifting two boxes of snapdragons, leaving Wonshik with the vase, and last box of flowers. The human gestured with a tilt of his head, arms occupied, “Come on in, you can set them down on the table.”  
  
Wonshik tried not to smile, tried being the operative word – he failed, effortlessly carrying the boxes inside Jaehwan’s apartment. It made halmeoni’s place look like a goddamn joke. The vampire could see where Jaehwan attempted to make the small place livable, his efforts so vividly apparent with neat organization, its brightness, and framed art. There were shelves lined with books, figurines, and photographs. The boy’s scent was everywhere, tickling Wonshik’s senses. It was sweet, like cotton candy, but spicy like cinnamon. It was fucking intoxicating.  
  
“Where were you headed this late at night?” Jaehwan asked, grabbing a pair of scissors from his kitchenette, and carefully cutting into the tape on one of the boxes.  
  
“I was going to the store for my halmeoni.”  
  
“This is the first time I’m seeing you here.” Jaehwan paused for a moment, thinking back. “I think it’s the first time I’ve seen Mrs. Choi have over company, actually. And I really don’t think that I should be saying this, but uhm, your halmeoni is kinda…she can be a bit…”  
  
“She’s a bitch,” Wonshik said, finishing the sentence for him. Jaehwan smiled then, a big ridiculous smile that did nothing good for the vampire’s desires, impulses, or his hunger.  
  
“Are you visiting or…?” Jaehwan trailed, trying to sound nonchalant about his obvious interest.  
  
“Staying.”   
  
Their eyes met for a long moment. The smile on Jaehwan’s face had grown a couple centimeters, lopsided and decidedly adorable. Wonshik might die all over again.  
  
Jaehwan cleared his throat, which resulted in another coughing fit. He held up a finger, indicating that Wonshik should wait a moment, “Sorry, I can’t stop. Anyways, I don’t know what all of this stuff is or who it’s from. So, I’m a little nervous.”  
  
“Maybe it’s from a fan,” Wonshik offered, making a show of checking for a card, or a name. He knew that there wasn’t one.  
  
“Maybe,” Jaehwan said, as he popped open one of the floral boxes, a soft gasp leaving his lips. He’d never received flowers, not on graduation day, not for his coming of age, or from a past lover. This was the first time. “They’re beautiful.” A cute frown tugged at Jaehwan’s lips, sadness evident in his voice, “I don’t even know what type of flowers these are…”              
  
“Let’s see.” Another performance on Wonshik’s part, as he stepped closer towards the barista, content with the light brushing of their shoulders as they stood next to one another. “They look like snapdragons.” He stared at Jaehwan, the ache in his chest unbearable. It took everything in him not to fall apart, when another cough had the younger gasping for breath.  
  
“Do you have any medicine for that?” Wonshik’s plan was finally in motion. The purpose of being invited in, to cure Jaehwan.  
  
“Yeah, I do.” Jaehwan looked at the kitchen clock, laughing at himself. “I’m twenty minutes late for my pills.”  
  
“That’s no good,” Wonshik chastised, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dim light. The thought of punishing Jaehwan was tempting. “You should go get them. I’ll finish up with this, if you’d like?”  
  
“Please,” Jaehwan said, already walking towards his bedroom. “I don’t think I can lift whatever is in that big box. My muscles are pretty useless right now.”  
  
Wonshik kept his mouth shut, stopping himself from saying something like, _‘they’d be useless regardless’_. He liked the prospect of owning something fragile or delicate, something he must be so especially careful with. Jaehwan was as good as glass in the vampire’s hands – his pretty baby, a limited edition, a true one of kind.  
  
Vampires used to bring their human pets out to the clubs just to show them off. It was a show between masters, seeing how well-behaved their pets were under their instruction. Who had the prettier pet? Who was most obedient? Subservient little humans were Wonshik’s personal favorite. It was practically carved into vampire genetics, to always be in control, to enjoy the fear, and submission of others. Honestly, given what had happened to him, he should find it revolting, but he couldn’t.  
  
Wonshik placed the vase at the center of Jaehwan’s living room table. The arrangement was lovely. He’d calculated well, three dozen snapdragons filling the crystal quite nicely. The meaning behind snapdragons was deception, the very act of concealment. It served as a much needed reminder for moments like these, where he was in the heart of Jaehwan’s house, about to give the boy his blood.  
  
Rather than ruining a life, he was about to save one – minus the dramatics, of course. It was only a mere cold, but still.  
  
“My halmeoni makes an amazing cup of tea,” Wonshik said, loud enough to reach Jaehwan. “I can make you one.”  
  
Jaehwan swallowed back his pill with a handful of bathroom faucet water. A cup of tea sounded really nice. He always remembered it being twice as good whenever someone else made it for him. He called back, “I’d love some!”  
  
He returned from the bathroom, pausing when he saw the flower arrangement. Jaehwan stood there staring at it in awe, cold induced haze, and all.  
  
“I really like those flowers,” Jaehwan said, walking into the kitchen, and pulling out his small selection of teas. “I wish I knew who sent them, though.”  
  
Wonshik was washing one of Jaehwan’s mugs at the sink, careful not to get the water on his sleeves. It was woefully domestic of him, but he could make anything look good, even this. Jaehwan leaned over and turned on his Keurig machine.  
  
“Honey and sugar is here. Milk is… where milk should be.”  
  
“Milk isn’t good for colds,” Wonshik tsked, wondering if Jaehwan had really gone his whole short mortal life not knowing that tidbit. “Black tea with lemon would be best. Do you have any fresh ginger?”  
  
The befuddled look on Jaehwan’s face was answer enough. He made do, placing the teabag in the cup, tying the dipping string around the handle, and added in the honey. The Keurig machine wasn’t complicated to figure out. The vampire had used one before and Jaehwan’s was cheap, so it was simple and straightforward.  
  
The water started to brew, hot and steamy. With Jaehwan constantly looking over at the pale bulbs of his snapdragons, it was easy for Wonshik to press his thumb into his pointer finger, drawing blood. It dripped into the cup in thick, dark rivulets. Vampire blood was sweetness to humans, not at all an off-putting taste. Most humans found it to be highly addictive. He wondered if Jaehwan would desire more someday.  
  
“You said you were my fan,” Jaehwan said, distractedly. It took him a moment to finally pull his eyes away from the flowers. “But I’ve never seen you before.”  
  
“Not big on coffee or sweets,” Wonshik reasoned, sliding Jaehwan’s cup of tea to him after a few stirs with a spoon.  
  
“Oh, so you just, what? Watched me…”  
  
“I did.” Way to call Wonshik out on his creepy stalking habits. “I overheard two girls talking about your Daum page, so I checked that out, and became an even bigger fan.”  
  
“You must be real comfortable with yourself to be admitting that,” Jaehwan teased, eyes watching Wonshik from above the rim of his Disney mug. He took slow sips, breath blowing away at the heat before each sip. “Mmm. Wow, okay. I don’t usually moan over tea, but…” Another sip. “This is fucking delicious.”  
  
He shyly looked away, not meaning to curse, at least not this soon. Jaehwan covered his face with a slender hand, briefly hiding his smirk.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
“You keep saying that,” Wonshik said, lowering his eyes to Jaehwan’s lips. They were pink now, back to their usual puffy alluringness (absurd, it was so fucking absurd). So beautiful, Wonshik imagined sliding his cock between them, making the boy’s mouth even redder, stretched wide until his jaw ached. Right. “I should go.”  
  
Before the blood kicked in, before Wonshik felt compelled to do something idiotic, and premature. It was long since over-fucking-due in his opinion. He watched the barista’s shoulders slump some, like a scolded puppy lowering its ears. _Fuck._ He moved into Jaehwan’s space then, blue eyes boring into Jaehwan’s dark ones. It was foreign to the vampire, not having to use his thrall. It was like second nature to him, but he so desperately wanted this to be real – Jaehwan’s every action, intentional, and of his own volition.  
  
“I want to see you more,” Wonshik said, leaning in close enough to feel the younger’s breath against his cold skin.  
  
Jaehwan nodded, finding it difficult to form words suddenly. “We should.”  
  
“You know where to find me.” Wonshik had pulled himself away then, could hear the shaky exhale Jaehwan released in response, as though he’d been let go of. Wonshik opened the door and tried not to look back, which ended up as another failure on his part. Jaehwan was gripping the countertop, knuckles bone white while his other hand stayed firmly wrapped around the teacup. There was so much tension, so much more to be said and done – the veil between maintaining their composure and fucking right then and there was running thin.  
  
The door closed with a soft click with Wonshik safely on the other side of it, focused on the way Jaehwan’s heartbeat was slamming against his chest. The vampire licked his amused lips and turned away, deciding to head out into the streets for his meal, as well as picking up his roommate’s request for din-din.  
  
The phone in his pocket buzzed. Wonshik took it out once he was in the stairwell, seeing Taekwoon’s name light up the screen. He swiped to answer it, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
“She’s been awakened. Meet me in ten.”  
  
The line went dead.  
  
Wonshik laughed, practically skipping down the last few steps. He’d felt something earlier, but he hadn’t known what it was exactly. Now he knew, somewhat ashamed that he’d forgotten all about the intense sensation of a slayer’s birth. Again, he couldn’t help but feel that he should be worried about it, but he wasn’t. In fact, he was delighted. It was like old times, where Taekwoon needed him for something. The situation would force the brothers to rely on one another. Only downside was that the slayer’s awakening would bring forth the Council of Dicks for investigation and of course, her removal.  
  
Wonshik would be ready for it.

* * *

**TBC**


End file.
